


The Last Resort

by Final_Requiem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Final_Requiem/pseuds/Final_Requiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the year 2002. Britain has been left for death, and hope has forsaken the war-ravaged land. Captured, with death only moments away, the Order reaches out for one last option - more time. Harry joins the team, rewriting destiny forever.</p>
<p>Also posted on FF.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The World as We Knew It

April 12, 1998  
Number 12, Grimmauld Place  
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

" _This will be our last plan. Our last resort to save this world from Voldemort,"Dumbledore announced grimly to the assembled group of his most trusted - consisting of Remus, Tonks, Minerva, Sirius and Harry._

_"Is that really necessary, Albus?" Minerva asked worriedly, an unpleasant feeling uncoiling within her at the mere thought of what things would be like if they had to use the plan._

_Dumbledore kept quiet for a while, and the rest stayed silent, wrapped up in their grim thoughts of war. Many Order members were already dead, the most recent death being Mad-eye's._

_"I'm afraid it just might, Minerva," the aged wizard broke the tense silence, "Just...as a last resort. But it has a low possibility of working. It is only to be our very last resort, if all else fails and there is no hope anymore."_

" _There's already no hope," Harry said harshly. "Who is still hoping? Who doesn't think they'll die? Who is ready to bring a child to this damned world?"_  


_Tonks choked, her hand resting on her swollen stomach. Remus wrapped a comforting arm around her waist, but even then he looked regretful. For a moment no one dared speak, all stunned by the reality of their situation._

" _We have to fight against the muggles and then against Voldemort for killing muggles. What the fuck are we doing?" Harry hissed out, close to losing his temper. His voice had been growing louder and louder throughout his speech, but then suddenly he stopped._

" _More time? Why can't we just wish for Voldemort to never exist, for this war to stop entirely?"_

"Hermione, dodge!" Harry screamed, even as he threw a vicious curse at the Death Eater behind her. The bushy haired witch instinctively threw herself down, but it was too late. The upper half of her body was blasted out in a shower of blood and gore.

"Fuck!" Harry gasped out, feeling tears sting his eyes. He wanted to get closer to her body, to do something, but he was immediately engaged by another Death Eater. The Death Eater who had killed Hermione crowed in victory, before disappearing into the chaos in search for more prey. No matter, Harry thought to himself darkly even as the Death Eater in front of him fell to a well aimed Killing curse. He had ingrained the culprit's mannerisms and fighting style into his memory, and could easily hunt her down later. She would not live to see another day.

He pressed his lips tightly together to hold his emotions together, quickly conjuring a white cloth over her body as a gesture of respect to the brave and intelligent witch who had stood by him in his darkest moments. "Get yourself together, Potter," He muttered, turning his eyes away from the sight and immediately casting a shield spell, watching as a sickly orange light splashed on its surface. He dodged a stray Killing curse, throwing one of his own right back at a Death Eater that had snuck up on him.

The battle continued; Hermione Granger's death brushed aside as one of the many casualties of the war. Harry pushed his grief at her death behind his Occlumency shields, focusing on staying alive in the chaotic battle. "Sectumsempra! Confringo! Duro!" He roared, throwing spell after spell at the Death Eaters around him, who immediately conjured up shields to stand against the continuous fire.

It was supposed to be a standard mission, a simple take-and-run kind of mission. The town was supposed to be secure. What the fuck was Diggle and Hestia doing? He snarled, blasting a Death Eater out of the way. Without hesitation, he raised his wand towards the darkening sky, throwing up a shower of red and gold sparks to call a retreat. Then he twisted his body, trying to apparate, but was met with a solid barrier.

Anti-Apparition wards. The hell? They had put up security measures just a few days ago to negate such wards. He scowled, abandoning his attempts at apparition, his emerald eyes quickly searching out Filius, the former Charms Professor at Hogwarts and a Ward Master. He threw a Killing curse at the Death Eater Filius was engaging, taking him out immediately.

"We need to get the bloody wards down, now!" Harry shouted, grabbing the diminutive man roughly and pulling him into a deserted alleyway.  


"It's too complex! It'll take hours," Filius shouted back, over the screams of spells and curses. "We need to run and get out of physical range of the wards!"

Harry cursed under his breath, feeling slightly dizzy from excessive blood loss. "Get the rest who are still alive and lead them out. I'm trusting their safety with you."

Flitwick pressed his lips together in determination, raising his wand slightly in promise before whirling around and disappearing back into the battle, to try to get the remaining Order survivors out before Voldemort arrived.

Harry headed for higher ground, keeping to the shadows and cursing the occasional Death Eater who spotted him. While Filius' job was to get all the Order members out, Harry's was to destroy the scene utterly, so that none of the bodies could be turned into Inferi and used against them. They had learnt their lessons well, through the numerous battles. There was no room for mistakes.

He crouched behind a bush, his breathing a little heavy, and narrowed his eyes as he carefully scrutinized the battle occurring below. The smoke was making it difficult to see properly, however, and it was impossible to tell friend from foe at such a distance. No matter, he trusted Filius. He would do exactly as instructed.

Ten minutes. He would give the Order ten minutes before razing the place down with Fiendfyre. The civilians would have been evacuated by now, or already dead, killed.

Five minutes. Harry squinted at the battle below. There were still a hell lot of movement.

Three minutes.

One minute. He hoped that most, if not all, of the Order members had evacuated.

Five, four, three, two…

A sudden prickling at his neck made him stiffen and throw himself to the right, only to see a bright green light strike the place where he had been crouching by. High cold laughter broke the silence of the night.

"Voldemort," Harry said emotionlessly, swallowing the spell he had been about to cast. Damn it, and he had been less than a second away from destroying the town…

Cursing Voldemort's bad timing, Harry clenched his fist around his holly and phoenix feather wand, ready to fight. Instead of doing the same, Voldemort simply watched him with a touch of dark amusement, lips curling into a small sneer.

"Dumbledore is dead. Do you really think you can defeat me now?"  


"Your penchant for conversation before doing battle could be your downfall, Tom," Harry snarled right back, feeling a vicious sort of triumph when Voldemort hissed at the use of his muggle name. Triumph faded to uncertainty and wariness, however, when instead of cursing him like Harry expected, Voldemort merely smirked.

Emerald green eyes widened with realisation and Harry immediately tried to twist his body to dodge the spell from behind. It was too late a realisation, however, and the last thing he knew was Voldemort's cold laugh as darkness descended upon him.

* * *

 

"Harry? Harry, wake up," Someone was shaking him. He grouchily batted the hands away, only to flinch when pain flooded his senses. Immediately he sat right up, gasping at the tight pain at his side. Glancing down, he saw a deep wound covered with a mixture of fresh and dried blood. He resisted a groan and looked around. Remus, Minerva and Tonks were awake, staring at him with a glimmer of worry.

Harry looked around at his surroundings. They looked to be in a cell. As far as he could see, the cell was empty. It was dark and he had to squint to even make out the features of Tonks, who was sitting the furthest from him. Her ankle (or what used to be there) was bleeding profusely, but she seemed to be fine at the moment, with only excessive blood loss to worry about judging by the pale expression on her face.

They stayed silent for a while, the fact that they were probably in Voldemort's hold being painfully obvious to them. But was it that bad to die, even if it was in the hands of Voldemort? Harry had to wonder. He had nothing to live for now. Ron and Hermione were dead. Arthur Weasley was captured and presumed dead. Almost all of Hogwarts students were dead. Hell, half of Britain was dead, muggle or magical. The whole country seemed to be bathed in blood. Muggles was slaughtering wizards out of fear and vice versa, Voldemort was slaughtering light wizards, and leaders were sacrificing thousands of innocents to try to save the situation, actions made for the 'Greater Good'. Harry had seen the atrocities that humans could do, and it made a very ugly picture. Everyone was struggling to save their own skin, not batting an eyelid at betraying the people they loved just to live to see one more day. Others committed suicide, not wanting to see anymore of the war. Harry yearned to do that, but he knew that he was the one destined to defeat Voldemort. He couldn't be selfish, no matter how impossible the task seemed.

He shook his head to get rid of such thoughts. "How did you guys get here? I thought I told Filius to get all of you out."

Remus shrugged, wincing at the pain the simple action elicited. "We probably got caught before he could get to us. We got taken out pretty early."

Tonks scowled. "They surprised us."

_Someone betrayed us_ was the unspoken words that hung in the air. They had suspected for at least a year now, that there was a traitor in the Order, but lacked the resources to check.

Besides, Harry thought grimly, it would have been unwise to throw accusations around in such a climate. He needed all the support he could get from the Order, and if he did that he could very well lose their help and support. Instead, he had waited to inform the Order only at the last possible moment of any missions. Obviously it had not worked out.

"Harry," His former Transfiguration professor spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

Harry tilted his head to the right in reply.

"Remember the... the last operation? The one which Albus said it was the last resort? If all else fails and there is no more hope."

Remus widened his eyes as he thought of the implications of that statement. "We could send Harry to  _her._ He could train and come back to fight. A wish for more time," Remus whispered, repeating what Dumbledore had shared with them.

Harry shook his head, his heart crushing painfully, "It has to be performed by four people. If I am the one being sent, you need one more person." All that hard work, the silent wish that it would save them if all else fails, and Operation Last Resort was in the end, just a wish that never came true. It would not save the world. It seemed that the world had a very grim future indeed.

"To hell with the rules, Harry," Tonks said venomously, "I am sick of seeing this war-torn world. Sick of living in this world. If there is a way to save this, no matter how impossible it seems, I am going to give it a try. I don't give a damn if we survive or not. I'll rather die trying to resist them than die by their hands." Her hair was dull in colour, a colour that had remained ever since the war really started. She had changed from the once bubbly girl to a tired war veteran who just wanted war to end, just like all of them.

Remus and Minerva nodded, a spark of their old selves returning. Their determination, which had slowly diminished throughout the war, was back. And Harry found himself nodding along. All of them felt a sense of optimism for the first time in a long while.

The three joined hands, with Harry in the middle, and they started a long chant in old Celtic. Bill had discovered the spell on accident, and after handing the relic with the carved words on it to Dumbledore, he had been killed by enraged death eaters who wanted the spell. Dumbledore was killed for the same reason, although he had been wise enough to destroy it beforehand after teaching it to Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Minerva and Harry.

Remus started first, the chant being very familiar after months of thinking about it relentlessly. Harry repeated after him, his blood as the necessary sacrifice for the spell. This process was repeated for the other two. The magic building up in the air around them was making it difficult to breathe. Harry breathed deeply, feeling the heavy weight of the magic in the air press down on him.

A sudden flash of pure white light illuminated the cell briefly, alerting the Death Eaters who immediately rushed to the cell, wands blazing and curses on their lips. When they got there, however, they were greeted with the sight of three lifeless bodies, an odd, creepy sort of a smile curling each of their lips.

And Harry Potter was gone.

 

End Chapter 1

_**He had nothing to live for now.** _


	2. The Beginning of the End

November 25, 1997  
Number 12, Grimmauld Place  
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

" _The Ministry has fallen."_

_Nobody spoke. The silence was deafening. Ron finally cleared his throat, looking slightly hesitant and hopeful. "Hey, this isn't so bad. I mean, they weren't doing anything much to help in the first place. No difference whether they're there or not, right?" He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, but failed dismally. Even Fred and George were looking solemn._

" _Don't be naïve, Ron," Sirius snapped. "Without a control centre, witches and wizards would be lost and there would be even more chaos."_

" _And Voldemort would take advantage of this chaos to recruit," Harry finished soberly._

_Tonks sat beside Remus, looking miserable and grim. As Harry finished his sentence she covered her face and emitted a strangled sort of a sob._

" _There's more, Albus," She lifted her head from her hands to look directly at Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Light. "As of three hours ago, the Statue of Secrecy was broken. The muggles, they know about us now." Her voice cracked. "And they're not reacting well," She whispered._

* * *

 

He could feel the magic tearing at him almost angrily, whipping at his body mercilessly. Harry Potter resisted the urge to screw his eyes shut despite the pressure on his eyes, causing them to water. As soon as the sensation had started, however, it had stopped.

"...You may go," He heard a woman's voice pronounce. Turning around sharply, he noticed a strange group of 4 standing in a magic circle, a strange creature and a woman next to them. They seemed to be preparing to leave, he noted. The woman, seeming to sense his presence, turned to face him, along with 2 of the adults in the group.

"Are you the Dimension Witch?" Harry ventured warily, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

The woman spared him a nod, a smirk pulling at her lips. Harry ploughed on. "I have heard that you fulfil wishes for a price. I have need for your services, and am willing to pay any price."

The Dimension Witch's eyes seemed to widen slightly, but nonetheless nodded, prompting him to continue. The entire group were staring at him now, save for the unconscious girl.

"Well, why don't you just send us off already and deal with the kid later?" An impatient voice interrupted. The witch smirked at the speaker -a tall male dressed in black- and ignored him. She motioned for Harry to continue, and seemed to not notice the thunderous expression on the male's face.

Harry breathed in deeply. Would this work? Words that he had uttered years ago came to his mind unexpectedly.  _"More time? Why can't we just wish for Voldemort to never exist, for this war to stop entirely?"_

He closed his eyes briefly, the faces of the war dead flashing by in his mind's eye. He came to a decision. "I wish for Voldemort to never exist, for the war to have never occurred."

For a wild moment he thought she would agree to his wish, but the spark of hope was shattered as she slowly shook her head, her smirk disappearing. "I cannot do that, Harry Potter," He startled at the address - he had not given her his name. "The existence of Voldemort is too closely tied with the existence of yourself. If Voldemort ceased to exist, so would you."

"I am willing to pay that price," Harry said strongly.

"It's not that simple, Harry Potter. The mechanics and workings of the world are hard to understand in its various intricacies. There was a reason for the both of you to exist, and for the bond that ties you together. I cannot change that."

Harry clenched his fist tightly, holding back the frustration he felt and remembering Albus' reply to his bold statement years ago. Albus was right again. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Very well, then my wish is for more time to train to defeat him, time that will not affect my dimension."

The Dimension Witch smiled. "That is within my ability. I can send you on a journey across the dimensions, where the flow of time is different from that of your dimension. In other words, while you move across the worlds, the time you spend there may be years or even decades, but the time that pass in your world would be no longer than a day. Is that acceptable?"

Harry pushed down the relieved smile that wanted to surface. "Yes. What is the price for that?"

"The price for a wish is what you treasure most," the Dimension Witch started. "I can give you the time you need to defeat Voldemort, but not the peace you desire. Once he is defeated, you must leave your home."

"What?" He blurted out instinctively, feeling the ridiculousness of that notion seize him. What was the point of defeating Voldemort if there was no peace to be found? There was still the muggles, the surviving Death Eaters...all those would remain a very serious threat.

The pre-war Harry Potter would have adamantly demanded an explanation, or started arguing. But post-war Harry was not as reckless or hot-tempered, having reached the level of maturity that only loss could bring. He remained silent and pondered his options. Eliminating Voldemort would be an important step to peace. Besides, there would be the Order of the Pheonix who would help in re-establishing order. Harry Potter was no longer the idealistic soul he once was, and knew there was precious little the Order could do even after Voldemort was defeated. But he could still help mediate and implement measures before he defeated Voldemort, and if he planned properly enough, he could at least pave some of the way for Britain's freedom.

Besides, when it came down to it, this option was the only chance he had of even defeating Voldemort. He had no choice, not really.

So, "I accept," He said resolutely. "Will you require a magical oath?"

"Even as you speak, your words and magic bind you to the agreement," Yuuko said seriously. "Remember this, Harry James Potter. You must leave after Voldemort has been defeated."

He kept silent, offering only a terse nod in acknowledgement.

"You will leave with the group of travellers behind you." She motioned to the group behind him, and Harry nodded, a gesture of part thanks and part acknowledgement, before turning sharply and striding towards the group.

Sharp emerald eyes immediately evaluated the group. The man dressed in black was not holding a weapon, but it would be foolish to underestimate him – the wary stance spoke of a warrior's experience. Calluses on his hands -mostly right- indicated skill with a weapon, wielded in his right hand, though the man must have trained himself to fight left-handed as well.

His eyes strayed to the other unknown, dressed in flowing white robes. Wizard, his mind supplied immediately at the sight of those robes. He smacked himself mentally, reminding himself that they were from different worlds and his old assumptions would no longer hold valid. Still, he was holding a staff, which Harry could sense was flowing with powerful magic. The man had great magical potential, hidden behind a smile that did not reach his eyes.

The last of the group was a young man holding an unconscious girl. The old Harry might have dismissed the kid, but war had taught him that kids could be equally, if not more so, dangerous. Yet, the young man was crouched down, his back to the two dangers behind him, which indicated a lack of battle experience, and perhaps an easily trusting nature.

Innocent, but not vulnerable.

All this he took in within seconds, even as he managed a polite, stiff smile as he walked over, resisting a wince as his wounds stung at the movement. It would not do to show his weakness in front of these dangerous people, though it was clear all three of them had noticed his injuries and silently evaluating his physical state.

Then, magic flared up around him, the magical circle was set once more. His own magic instinctively rose up hostilely against the foreign power, and for a moment there was a clash of pure power, then everything went dark.

* * *

 

Consciousness returned slowly. Harry kept his breathing slow and steady, eyes shut even as he reached out with his senses to check his surroundings.

"I know you're awake," a gruff voice sounded, and Harry almost startled, barely managing to control it. Still, his act was up, and there was no reason pretending ignorance. He opened his eyes, with an instinctual flick of his hands to bring his wand to his hand, only to panic when the familiar sensation of the slim wood in his hands did not come.

He leapt into a defensive position, battle-honed instincts guiding him as his hands patted down his usual weapon-hiding spots in his clothes. Fuck, they were all gone.

His eyes scanned the strangers in the room. Muggles, his mind supplied, until he noticed a magical aura to his right. A wizard working with muggles? What the-

The anomaly startled him enough to give him pause, and then he remembered. Voldemort, his capture, the Dimension Witch, his magic fighting-

He relaxed very slightly, now aware he was not in a hostile situation. They stared at him in varying degrees of surprise, though the men dressed in black and white respectively seemed unsuprised.

He could recognize the two men, the kid and the young girl lying unconscious in a corner from the Dimension Witch's place, but there was two more unknowns. A young couple were standing in front of the group, holding...puppets?

"Who are you?" He demanded, eyes narrowing and uncaring of the rudeness he was showing.

The woman spoke first, her voice soft and reassuring. "I am Arashi, and," she gestured to the man beside her, "this is Sorata, my husband. We own this place, and you are here because we owe Yuuko a debt."

"Yuuko?"

"That's the Dimension Witch," the man in flowing white robes picked up cheerfully. "Fai D. Flowright at your service, but you can just call me Fai."

"Kurogane," the gruff voice he had heard came from the man in black, still staring at him piercingly.

"I'm Syaoran, and that is Sakura," the kid continued, easily hiding his hesitance and surprise behind a warm smile.

The tension was thick in the room, and Harry was reminded that he had probably caused it, reacting as he did. "Harry Potter," He introduced himself neutrally. "I apologise for my rudeness." He was slightly sorry for spoiling the atmosphere, but he would never directly apologise for his instincts, which had saved his life countless times.

"Not to worry, not to worry!" Sorata dismissed cheerily. "Now take a seat, and we'll resume with our history lessons!"

Harry moved closer to them, but sat with his back against the wall, slinking into the shadows silently. With a jolt, he realised that his injuries had been bandaged, the muggle way. It wasn't the first time he had been treated with muggle medicine, but after his experience with magical healing, the muggle way always seemed barbaric and backward.

While he wasn't a professionally certified healer (And what were professional certifications in war, anyway? He had been 'Order-certified', and that was enough for anyone.), he had his emergency healing spells to fall back on. Perhaps later, when he was away from prying eyes, he would attempt to heal himself. Limited mobility could be the death of him, especially in an unknown world.

"Anyway, I'll gloss over the start again, just to catch us all up," Sorata was saying with a wink, "This is the Hanshin Republic-" he blathered on about the tiger being their symbol, their national sport...Harry tuned the information out, picking up only the pertinent facts.

Kurogane let out a quiet snore beside him.

"Hey, no sleeping during class!" Sorata shouted, pointing at the sleeping man indignantly. Then, before anyone could react, a loud thud sounded as something seemed to smack Kurogane's head from behind.

Everyone reacted badly. In a matter of seconds, everyone was on their feet, alert and ready to defend against the unknown threat. Harry, who had been leaning against the wall just beside Kurogane, startled so badly he instinctively turned and sent a blast of magic at the threat. There was a loud smash and dust flew everywhere. When the dust had cleared, everyone was staring at the deep gouge left on the wall, courtesy of Harry's accidental magic.

"What was that?!" Kurogane demanded, and for a moment Harry was unsure if he was referring to Harry's reaction, or the hit. "I didn't feel any attackers!"

"You were in a corner," Fai analysed logically, clearly also putting Harry's reaction aside for the moment. "If he threw anything it wouldn't have hit you there. It had to come from above."

"Or the wall itself," Harry muttered, ignoring the incredulous glances he got from the muggles, who were obviously unaware of the myraid of magical traps that could be set up in a simple wall. He raised a hand against the cool wall, but there was no magical residue save for his own in the gouge in the wall. "But no, the wall is clean."

"Uh...what?" Sorata said, looking confused. "That was just my kudan."

"What?" 3 voices simultaneously asked, clearly confused. Harry was too busy searching his memory for any mention of a branch of magic named 'kudan'.

"Everyone in this world has a kudan attached to them," Arashi cut in at this point. "What you use it for, how you use it, its up to the user."

"A spirit guardian of sorts, then?" Fai asked.

"Well, you  _could_ call it that," Sorata shrugged. "It's difficult to explain. It's something you'll have to see and experience for yourself to truly understand." He glanced at his watch. "Well, it's getting late, you better head off to bed! Kurogane and Fai will share a room, is that fine?"

Kurogane grumbled a bit but acquiesed in the end, with Fai slinging an arm across his shoulder playfully.

"Can I stay with Sakura, please?" Syaoran asked lowly, holding the girl's hand protectively.

"That's alright," Arashi said reassuringly. "Harry, would you mind sharing a room with Kurogane and Fai then?"

Harry hesitated very slightly, but nodded his head in agreement. While he knew he would be unable to sleep with two unknowns in the room, he wasn't about to be ungrateful to the only people they knew in this world. "I'm sorry for the wall," he started, glancing at the deep gouge that everyone had carefully avoided mentioning. Harry ran a finger over the mark, and tried to repair it. A warm tingle ran down his fingertips and the wall was repaired, good as new.

Thank Merlin. He had never been exceptionally good at wandless magic, despite Albus having personally tutored him, considering that he had only been taught for about a year before Albus' untimely demise.

"That's amazing," Sorata whistled. Harry gave a slightly strained smile; wandless magic always took a lot out of the caster.

"It's what I should do," Harry said. "Thank you for your hospitality." With that, he retired to the same room he had seen Fai and Kurogane entering, never fully turning his back to the muggles.

* * *

 

Even as they dragged their futons further away from each other -with only Fai doing the exact opposite to aggravate Kurogane- Harry couldn't help but feel extremely uncomfortable sleeping in such close proximity to the people he had recognized as dangerous. He laid still and unmoving in his futon, acutely aware that the other two were as awake and alert as he was.

Despite earlier revelations that Kurogane had given his sword up, and Fai his tattoo to the Dimension Witch, both claiming they had lost their means of defence, Harry was not naive enough to think that would stop them from being a danger to him.

He felt naked and vulnerable without his wand and weapons. While he could perform wandless magic and was relatively adept at hand-to-hand combat, his proficiency in these two skills was pathetic enough that he would barely last a minute against a truly determined enemy.

Yet tiredness from the fight with the Death Eaters, the magical stuggle with dimensional travel, and his show of wandless magic was beginning to creep up on him. It suddenly dawned on him how long a day he truly had. Within a matter of hours, he had gone from a simple mission to another world, full of unknowns and hidden dangers.

"Hey," Kurogane suddenly spoke, and Harry turned his head to face the man on the other side of the room, tense and alert. "I won't hurt you when you're sleeping, kid. Go to sleep."

Harry sat up slowly to face the man. "Do you swear never to harm me in any way, shape or form while I'm unconscious for the next 8 hours?" He could have worded the oath more carefully, but his mind was getting more and more sluggish by the minute.

"Yes," Kurogane said seriously, apparently recognizing the workings of an oath. Harry's magic reached out and re-affirmed the promise, and he relaxed slightly.

"I swear not to do anything that can be construed to mean harm in any way possible, as judged by one Harry James Potter, for the next 8 hours, as long as he does nothing that can be construed to mean harm in any way towards me in return," Fai said quietly, equally serious.

Harry relaxed at Fai's oath, which was easier to accept. Kurogane's promise had seemed suspicious, with the man taking no means to ensure his own protection, but Harry could understand Fai.

"I accept, and so mote it be," he spoke easily, feeling the magic lacing their agreement.

"Well, goodnight then, Harry," Fai said cheerfully, flopping down onto his futon casually.

"Night," Harry murmured back out of courtesy. It seemed ridiculous that he should be concerned about courtesy now, when it was the last thing he cared for in the past few years. In the war, the only thing that had mattered was survival, and courtesy was merely a false front for manipulation.

With that last thought, he drifted off into slumber.

 

End Chapter 2

_**It would not do to show his weakness in front of these dangerous people.** _


	3. Muggles

" _It's a person's heart that controls the kudan. So if a person can command a strong kudan, that is proof that the person is strong."_

Masayoshi, TRC Volume 2, Chapter 006

So why didn't he have one?

Harry tapped his fingers on the windowsill impatiently – an action he did when he was thinking particularly hard. He had been absolutely useless today, taking up the role of spectator and observer as Fai, Kurogane, and Syaoran unleashed their kudan to get Sakura's feather back.

It wasn't like he would have fought even if he had a kudan – the sharp edges of his impulsive Gryffindor temper had long since been eroded away, when he had learnt the hard way that impulsiveness bought nothing but failure and death. He wasn't the same first-year boy who would jump through an unknown trapdoor without sufficient back-up or information. He did not jump into battles for just anyone, especially for people he knew nothing about and was wary of.

Still. Where was his kudan and why did he not have one? All of their kudan had come to them through dreams, but Harry had only nightmares in his sleep, just as normal. Why was he different? Sorata had theorised that kudan were gods that attached themselves to all citizens of Hanshin, to protect all of them. While Harry was sceptical of such a theory (after all, muggles tended to attribute what they did not understand to the most ridiculous reasons), Sorata was of this world and would have a greater understanding of what was going on compared to Harry.

He wondered if this was what Albus had wanted him to look for. The powers that each world offered, combined, could be what was needed to get rid of Voldemort once and for all. But how was he to get the power of a kudan?

" _What belongs to you will belong,"_ What sounded suspiciously like Luna's sing-song and dreamy voice echoed in his head, and he sighed. That was true. There was nothing much he could do in this case.

Emerald eyes gazed out of the window and fell upon the lone figure standing in the rain, getting drenched. He felt a small stab of sympathy for the boy. Ever since Sakura had woken up and asked who Syaoran was, he had stood out in the rain, clearly trying to collect himself and hide any tears.

Even as Harry watched, Syaoran's kudan appeared next to him, and mere seconds later, so did Fai's and Kurogane's, the wings of their kudan spreading out to shelter the boy.

Harry's hand, without him realising it, had moved from the windowsill to rest upon the cool window, almost covering his sight of the figure tenderly. He closed his eyes and felt his heart clench as he remembered all that he had lost. In that fleeting moment he fully understood the pain the boy was going through. A sad smile tugged at the edges of his lips and he breathed out the incantation for a warming spell, feeling the magic leave his palm to envelop the silent figure outside.

When Syaoran looked up, startled by the warming sensation, the only sign of Harry having been there was the fog of his warm breath on the window.

* * *

 

"Kid," a familiar voice said gruffly. Harry had long since sensed the man's approach and managed not to tense up.

"Kurogane," Harry turned to regard the man curiously. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Though on second thought, the man had probably woken up the moment Harry did, despite their shared oaths.

Kurogane didn't answer the question, but reached into his pocket to draw out a bottled drink. And if he had seen Harry tense up at the action, he did not make any sign of it.

Slowly, almost as if to give Harry time to register his actions, he handed it over to him.

"What is it?" Harry asked warily, not taking his eyes off Kurogane to look at the drink.

Kurogane scowled a little. "Bottled fruit juice," he muttered. Harry almost felt nostalgic at the Snape-like scowl.

"Why?" He was getting more and more confused. Did the man seriously follow him up to the balcony in the middle of the night to give him a bottle of juice?

Kurogane sighed, looking slightly irritated. "Look, kid. You haven't eaten anything since you came into this world. I recognize the signs of prolonged starvation when I see it. You need to start from bottled fruit juices, otherwise your system will not be able to handle it."

He was momentarily taken aback, and Kurogane continued to meet him firmly in the eyes, looking more and more impatient by the second. Finally, Kurogane simply shoved the bottle into Harry's hands, ignoring the way Harry flinched at the action.

"Drink it or throw it away. I'm going back to sleep," Kurogane said gruffly, and turned to walk away.

Harry hesitated, watching the man walk away silently, and finally managed to open his mouth. "Thank you," he said quietly, but loud enough for the man to hear.

Kurogane disappeared behind the door, giving no sign that he had heard Harry's words. Harry heard the quiet click of the door closing, and his gaze fell upon the bottle of juice. It was unopened, but there were a number of spells that could have fixed the bottle after it was opened, or even with technology. Just because Kurogane was a muggle did not mean that Harry was about to underestimate him. Or perhaps, it was precisely because of the fact that he was a muggle that Harry would not trust him easily.

He grasped the bottle tightly and muttered the series of spells he had memorised and performed for all food and drinks before he ingested them, checking for any poisons or dangerous substances.

It was clean.

Harry felt a strange sense of guilt at not trusting the other male's kind gesture, but dismissed it. Kurogane was a dangerous man, and he had no reason to trust him. Gazing at the bottle speculatively, and resisting the urge to throw it off the balcony, Harry wondered if he was too paranoid for thinking that his spells might not be good enough for poisons beyond his world. Perhaps there were poisons or potions in other worlds that his spells could not detect...

He sighed quietly. Hunger clawed at his insides, but it was an old ache he was so used to that he barely noticed it anymore. The sight of the drink had reminded him of his growing hunger, but he was not about to take any foolish risks. He had a world to save.

He turned, feeling the wind ruffle his hair playfully, and smoothed down his fringe to cover the famous scar. Then he walked back the way Kurogane had gone, smoothly dumping the bottle in a trash bin as he went.

* * *

 

They stood in a half-circle, and Harry felt the powerful magic envelop them. His own magic rose up aggressively, but he knew now to suppress it, and kept a tight rein on his magic as they were pulled mercilessly through a tight tunnel. Lights flashed past them at an astonishing speed, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes.

Syaoran turned his head back suddenly, and Harry instinctively mimicked him, curious to know what the other boy was looking at. For a moment he thought he saw a figure cloaked in darkness, watching him. An icy hand seemed to grab his chest, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.

Then he blinked, and there was nothing once more.

Had he imagined it?

Before he could think further on it, he felt himself falling, and panicked as gravity pulled them down rapidly. His body instinctively twisted and he rolled as he hit the hard ground to absorb the impact, and stood gracefully.

He sighed as a quick check revealed that he had not sustained any injuries from the fall. His relief was short-lived, however, as a quick scan of his area told him that they were surrounded.

"Muggles," he hissed, feeling the familiar wave of rage and hate envelop him. He shifted into a battle-ready stance, barely resisting the temptation to attack. Under normal circumstances, they would have been unconscious on the ground by now, but this was not normal. The muggles were holding long sticks of all things, instead of guns or the advanced and dangerous technology they usually used.

They planned to take Harry Potter out with long sticks? Were they daft?

"Harry," a quiet voice came from behind him, and he twirled, fist already flying at the person, who caught it easily in his hand. The familiar blue eyes and blonde hair made him stop.

"Fai," he replied as calmly, as if he had not just almost lost his self-control, and straightened, tugging his fist out of Fai's hand roughly. His instincts and magic were still raging, and he struggled to get himself under control.

Muggles always had a way of breaking his usual iron-clad control.

He belatedly realized that everyone was staring at him blankly, and felt momentarily ashamed. He had been on the knife's edge between his usual calm and crazed rage ever since he had left his world.

"Sorr-" He stopped mid-word as he registered a sharp movement in the corner of his vision, instinctively flinching away from it. Unfortunately he had expected a spell, or a bolt of energy, or anything but the meaty hand grabbing his own bony one, pulling him roughly.

Harry lost it.

He had already been teetering over the edge, and the rough tug startled him so badly that his control shattered.

"DEPULSO! INCARCEROUS!" He screamed, an edge of hysteria in his voice, and stumbled as the hand was ripped away from him suddenly, its owner hitting a fruit stall nearby and collapsing it, ropes magically binding his arms and legs together.

He straightened, breathing heavily, and the crackle of energy running up his hand was a sign of how agitated he was.

"Do you know who I am?!" The bound man was roaring, face turning purple in his rage and humiliation. "I'm the son of the Ryanban!"

Emerald eyes settled on the bound figure coolly, and narrowed dangerously. Smoothly, he walked over to the man, roughly pulling him up by his shirt. The crowd and his minions cleared the way for him, all looking terrified out of their wits as they realized how useless their long sticks were against him.

As Harry leaned in closer to the figure, his senses tingled, and his eyes narrowed even further. This man...

"The magic you hold was stolen from someone else," Harry said, his voice flat and emotionless, which only terrified the man more.

"WHAT RUBBIS-" The man spluttered, flecks of spit flying into Harry's face.

"Shut up," Harry snapped, and the man immediately shut his mouth, whimpering slightly. "I want to know where the magic you hold came from."

"M-my father gave..." The man was shaking terribly by now, and Harry did not have to look into his mind to know that he was being honest. He threw the man back onto the floor roughly, wiping the man's saliva from his face with distaste.

"Your father is the Ryanban, yes?" He said casually, straightening his clothes nonchalantly.

The terrified man nodded frantically, and Harry saw that the man had wet his pants. A frigid smile pulled at his lips and the man let out a loud whimper at the sight.

"Don't worry," Harry said, smile growing wider, "I'll let the two of you die together. Once I find him, I'll come for you."

There was utter silence around him, and Harry tensed when he caught a movement in the periphery of his vision, but it was only a young girl with her hair tied up in a long ponytail. She looked exhilarated but also slightly fearful, and seemed to be wondering whether she should approach him.

Harry turned, and met the faces of his companions. Syaoran looked taken aback, but there was also concern mixed in. Fai and Kurogane's faces held indecipherable expressions, but there was nothing condemning in their expressions, which was surprising. But what surprised Harry the most was Sakura, whom he had expected to be fearful, but instead looked at him with genuine concern and sympathy.

He didn't want sympathy, however, and looked away. "I'll find you guys later," he mumbled to the ground, and walked past them swiftly, the crowd parting for him instinctively. A few of them were bold enough to clap him on the back and give him a cheerful smile, some even congratulating him. He did not know why they did that, nor did he want to know why.

He just wanted to be alone, to try to forget the memories that wanted to surge up and drown him in them.

His feet carried him to a river, and he sat at the edge of the small bridge, staring down at the water below blankly.

" _Luna," Harry whispered, grabbing the cool and bloodied hand. "I'll save you, don't worry. We'll bring you back now."_

_The girl smiled slightly, wincing at the slight movement. "Don't be silly, Harry." Her voice was rough and ragged, nowhere near the airy and dreamy tone she usually adopted._

_The airy and dreamy tone that got her into this state._

" _I-I won't...live...past this," she continued, her breathing coming in harsh gasps now. Her usually pale face was white, and she shivered violently as if cold. But her eyes were never more focused. Clouded grey eyes met grief-stricken emerald eyes intently, as if reading his mind._

" _I'll kill them all for this," Harry hissed, tears falling freely from his eyes, knowing that Luna was beyond saving._

" _Don't...succumb to revenge...Harry Potter," She favored him with one last smile, then her grey eyes dulled and her hand slipped from his._

_She was dead._

_He choked on a sob, ignoring how Ron tried to pull him away. Shakily, he reached out to close her eyes._

Harry blinked away tears, mentally chastising himself for letting his guard down and recalling memories he had buried years ago. There was never time to grieve in the war. People were relying on him and he had to deliver.

He shook his head, wiping away the moisture in his eyes roughly.

Soft footsteps sounded from behind him and he tensed, before his magic recognized that the presence was Sakura's and relaxed marginally.

"Harry?" She called out softly, stopping some distance behind him, perhaps so as not to startle him. Clearly she was unaware that he had already sensed her before her call.

He turned to face her, and managed a smile. "Sakura," he greeted cordially. "Why are you here?" He was slightly surprised that Syaoran had allowed her out of his sight, and he scanned his surroundings, seeing Syaoran a distance away. The boy nodded at him and moved out of sight, to give the two some privacy.

The boy was too trusting, Harry thought, exasperated. Harry had yet to even have a full conversation with him and here he was, trusting Harry with his Sakura.

Ah. Harry's sharp eyes caught a movement in the distance, and smiled slightly. Perhaps not so trusting, then. Syaoran was keeping a close watch. Though, he should have known that with such a distance, if Harry decided to do anything he would be too far away to help in time.

Sakura took a seat next to him, and stared up at him with soft green eyes, a lighter shade than his own bright emerald ones.

"You seem like you are in so much pain," she said softly.

He managed a tight smile, startled that she had been so direct. "Painful memories," he said, divulging more than he usually would have. It was easy to trust her. Something about her reminded him of Ginny.

Thinking of Ginny made his heart hurt, and he looked away from Sakura's questioning eyes.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" He blurted out.

She seemed surprised at the question. "I'm not scared of you. You are helping me even though I don't remember all of you. And... you are not a bad person. I can feel it. You just seem so tired. Like you are carrying the world on your shoulders."

She reminded him of Luna, in that instant. Someone who did things based on a logic only she got, but whom was almost never wrong, and saw things no one else could see. He could never fully understand Luna, and he wondered if he would ever fully understand Sakura.

Perhaps that was why he trusted her.

"You remind me somewhat of someone," he said quietly, his eyes widening as he divulged more than he had ever wanted to. But Sakura was only listening quietly, her presence giving him calm and reassurance.

"Her name was Luna." He choked on the name, feeling the familiar grief overwhelming him. "She was kind of dreamy and airy, and she believed in all sorts of creatures no one ever saw. They used to call her Looney, actually." He remembered how Hermione used to argue with Luna over those creatures fondly, smiling slightly. "We were in a magical war. The Ministry of Magic fell, and the non-magicals – we call them muggles – they found out about magic. Because it was a war, many muggles had been killed, and they saw us as a threat they needed to eliminate."

His voice was hard, and he clenched his jaw as he struggled with his hatred for muggles. "They killed many of us. Our world tended to ignore the muggles, and so we were unprepared when they launched a full-out assault. We tried to hide. Those who couldn't blend in were caught. Luna...she was always unique. Different. The muggles caught her."

He realized that tears were flowing down his face by now, and his voice was starting to shake, but he was so lost in his memories that he could not be bothered to wipe them away. "They tortured her. Then, they wanted to know the secret behind magic and why only some of us could do it. They-they cut...they experimented on those that they caught."

"By the time we found her.." Harry's voice died and he bit his lip harshly, unable to continue. Sakura placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see her crying too. For a moment he regretted telling her about it, though he had omitted the gory details. There had been blood everywhere, needles and tubes and all sorts of things inserted into Luna's prone body. Her head, and parts of her body had been cut open grotesquely, the muggles poking at her internal organs trying to find out what made her so different from muggles. They had not bothered with anaesthetics or painkillers. By that time, wizards and witches had been reduced to sub-humans in muggles' eyes.

He had painfully tortured and killed every single muggle he had come across at that base that day. The Order members had been horrified, but they had been far kinder, felling the muggles with quick blows.

"What happened?" Sakura asked softly. It surprised him – he had thought she would want him to stop talking.

He smiled bitterly. "If not for the plague with her name next to her, none of us would have recognized her." At that point Luna had resembled nothing but a gory mass of red, nothing like her old self. "She died."

Sakura gasped quietly and pulled him into a hug. He had missed such contact – it reminded him of Hermione, who always pulled him and Ron into a giant hug when things got terribly low. Ever since Ron had died her hugs had always felt different, more desperate and possessive. He missed their bear hugs.

But Sakura was not Hermione. Her hug was different – kind and reassuring like Hermione's and Ginny's, but there was an undercurrent of tension that came with hugging a stranger. He pulled away first, quietly wiping his tears away.

Had he really broken down in front of a stranger? For a brief moment he felt ashamed, but then Sakura offered him a tentative but genuinely warm smile and he realized that nothing between them would change. She would not look upon him differently for his breakdown.

"Thank you," he said, offering the first sincere smile since ages ago to the girl. There was something special about her, he realized. She had a kindness that radiated out from her, that could ease the pain of anyone.

They sat in silence for a moment, both collecting themselves.

"Syaoran...is special," Harry finally decided to say, albeit vaguely, so that he would not break the contract between Syaoran and Yuuko. "He cares for you."

"I know," She whispered. "Sometimes he feels so familiar, but I can't remember anything."

And she would never remember. Harry felt another pang of sadness for Syaoran. "Remembering the past isn't everything, Sakura," he finally said. "Remember that you also have the chance to create new memories now."

She frowned, clearly thinking his words through.

Harry decided to let her ponder more on it on her own. There was a limit to how much he could meddle, after all. They had to figure things out on their own. "It's getting late. I'll bring you back, alright?"

She nodded and he offered her a hand to pull her up, and they walked back to the house together.

 

End Chapter 3

_**He missed their bear hugs.** _


	4. Twisted Mirror

December 10, 1997  
Number 12, Grimmauld Place  
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

_Things were getting heated._

" _This is ridiculous!" Sirius roared, slamming his hand on the mahogany table. "When will they realize that we only want to help?"_

_The tension in the room was thick and suffocating. Albus Dumbledore sighed wearily and pushed his half-moon glasses up, picking up the papers he had spread out over the table for the rest to look at. "They fear what they do not understand. We cannot fault them for that."_

" _If I may, Professor," Hermione spoke up hesitantly, and Dumbledore nodded at her to continue. "The muggles have learnt that many wizards and witches are ignorant of their culture. They are identifying us through...well...the way we dress."_

" _What?" Ron spluttered, appalled. "What has our clothes got to do with anything?"_

_She sighed irritably. "Honestly, Ronald, have you seen the way we try to blend in?"_

" _Yeah, remember that Archie bloke who wore a nightdress to the Quidditch World Cup because he liked 'a healthy breeze around his privates'?" Harry added soberly. It was difficult to enjoy the humor in it when he realized that people like old Archie would be killed or tortured for their eccentric dress._

" _It would mean that a lot of innocents would be unfairly arrested," Remus said, frowning. "What about muggles who have poor fashion sense?"_

" _It is a flawed policy," Hermione agreed vehemently, looking frustrated. "But this is not the worst of it. The magicals are not in their records, even Muggleborns tend to disappear from their records when they turn eleven and go to magical schools. There are rumors that the muggles will soon start identifying us using these records."_

" _My father and some of my old contacts might be able to help in that," Tonks said, leaning forward. "I know of people who are good at hacking into these records. They should be able to create records for the Order."_

" _Good, good," Dumbledore agreed thoughtfully. "I believe I know some Obliviators who could be of use as well. That's settled, then."_

" _I think we should report here every morning for Granger to check our muggle attires," Alastor said gruffly, magical eye whirling around to look for any signs of discontent at his suggestion._

_Some of the Order members looked frustrated at the inconvenience, but only nodded sullenly in agreement._

" _We should probably start reading up on muggle culture too," Arthur said, looking excited at the thought. "I have some books at home that I'll bring over tomorrow."_

* * *

 

December 25, 1997  
Number 12, Grimmauld Place  
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

" _Merry Christmas, Harry," he muttered sardonically, as the clock struck twelve. One could usually hear the cheers from neighbouring houses or from the busy streets at this time, but with the war as it was, no one was in the mood for celebrating._

_He raised the bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips and took a long drink, feeling it burn its way down his throat._

" _Harry."_

" _Hermione. Want a bottle?" He squinted at the bushy-haired figure who stood in front of him, her arms crossed._

_She snatched the bottle of Firewhiskey from his hand fiercely, holding it away from him. He sighed explosively and leaned back on the couch, staring at her with feigned disinterest._

" _Here to lecture me too?" He finally said, when minutes had passed in stony silence._

_She sighed, and he looked away, hating the pity in her eyes. Warm hands covered his own cold ones as she knelt in front of him, and he realized how skeletal thin she was, how tired she looked. It was exactly what he saw when he looked into a mirror nowadays._

" _Luna wouldn't have wanted you to-" She started. It was the wrong thing to say._

" _Well, FUCK what Luna would have wanted!" He snarled, snatching his hands away and storming away from her to the fireplace, breathing heavily as he stared at the dying embers. He tried to calm himself. He cared for Hermione, and he did not want to hurt her. "She's dead. She can't have anything now," he said, forced calm in his voice. "I don't want to talk about her, Hermione."_

_The warning in his voice was unmistakable, but Hermione Granger was equally, if not more, stubborn than him._

" _She didn't want you to succumb to revenge, Harry," Hermione said doggedly. "Torturing muggles is considered revenge." Her voice softened. "I don't want to lose you, Harry. You were never like this."_

_He refused to face her, clenching his fists and trying to control the white-hot anger that always came with the subject of Luna. "I was naïve before, Hermione. I believed that no one, except Voldemort and his Death Eaters, could be so cruel. I wanted to defend the helpless and innocent muggles against them." He smirked sardonically at his naiveté. "Maybe I realized that they aren't so innocent and helpless. Maybe I realized that they are monsters just like Voldemort. And maybe," he turned around to face Hermione, face cold with rage. "maybe I think they aren't worth saving any more."_

_Hermione looked at the man she had grown up with, frightened beyond belief at what he had turned into. "Not all muggles are like that," she protested, but it was a weak statement. Even her faith in muggles was starting to crumble. Her voice grew stronger. "My parents were muggles, Harry. So they are not worth saving?" She challenged._

_He didn't falter. "They are dead, Hermione. They are not relevant to the world as it is now."_

_Her hand was cutting through the air before she knew it, slapping him so hard he stumbled. He looked up at her with furious and betrayed eyes._

" _Look at yourself, Harry Potter," she hissed, tears forming in her eyes. "If you think that, then you are no better than Voldemort." She turned and ran up the stairs, away from him. He heard the sound of a door slamming moments later._

_He stood for a long time, staring at the direction she had gone. Then, with a snarl, he picked up the bottle of Firewhiskey and threw it at the opposite wall, watching as it shattered everywhere._

_He was nothing like Voldemort, he thought. Hermione was wrong._

_But there was a niggling doubt at the back of his mind._

_What if she was right?_

* * *

 

"If the Ryanban is so bad, why haven't you risen up against him?" Kurogane said, for once not reading the book he had bought from Hanshin, which spoke of how serious he was being. 

The girl, whom he had learned was called Chun-Hyang (he had still not quite managed to pronounce the name correctly), looked down. "We did try, several times. But the Ryanban's castle has some kind of magic surrounding it. We could never get close enough. But," she perked up, staring at Harry with undisguised excitement. "You have magic! You could help us breach the castle's defenses."

"I'm not very good in breaking wards, especially wards as strong as these," Harry admitted. He had felt the wards, and it could rival the wards at Hogwarts before the castle had fallen. Ward-breaking had never been his forte, having never studied Ancient Runes, and he had left that to Bill, and when Bill had died, Filius. That, and he was not about to rashly promise his help to a stranger, no matter how sympathetic he felt towards their plight.

She looked crushed at the admission, and he could see the beginnings of tears before Syaoran interjected. "Don't worry, we will help you. We will find a way, somehow."

Syaoran would have made a good Gryffindor, Harry thought, once again exasperated by the boy's heroic and somewhat naïve tendencies. He silenced the part of him that was drawing parallels between Syaoran and young Harry Potter.

"You could always kidnap his son to get to him," Fai said cheerily, and Harry almost smirked at the statement, which, while delivered almost jokingly, spoke of the core of steel the man had. He saw, out of the corner of his eyes, Kurogane smirk slightly as well.

"We can't!" The girl said vehemently. "The Ryanban watches every corner of Ryonfi. If anything happens to his son...he'll command magical attacks on us from the castle, attacks that we can't defend against."

"What a coward," Kurogane scowled.

"You said that the Ryanban suddenly got stronger about a year or so ago," Fai said slowly, clearly thinking hard. "I wonder if that has anything to do with Sakura's feathers..." He gave Syaoran a significant look, and Harry could almost see the boy following the logic and becoming more invested in the situation.

"It wouldn't add up. It was only a short while ago that the feathers were scattered," Kurogane pointed out.

"But," Harry spoke up before he could stop himself. "Yuuko said that time passes differently in different dimensions..."

Fai looked pleased at his conclusion. "Exactly." He simply said, allowing them to draw their own conclusions.

The man had figured it all out so quickly? Harry quickly added 'highly intelligent' to his mental observations of Fai.

"I'll go and check if there is a feather," Syaoran said, already standing. Harry was about to sigh at his impulsiveness when Sakura grabbed Syaoran's hand tightly.

"But-" she said hesitantly, clearly worried about letting him go. Syaoran smiled warmly at her and knelt beside her.

"I'll be fine, Princess Sakura. I'll get your feather back for you, I promise."

Harry turned away from the intimate moment, feeling uncomfortable at how much Syaoran had resembled his younger self at that moment. Syaoran's impulsiveness stemmed from his strong desire to protect and save the girl he loved so deeply, the girl who would never remember him.

The cynical side of him thought that the impulsiveness would eventually fade when Syaoran realized he couldn't save Sakura from everything. Harry shook it off, clearing his throat to break the moment.

"You still need to find a way around his wards before you can do anything," Harry said pragmatically.

"Can you do something about that?" Kurogane directed the question towards Fai. Harry wondered at the readiness both men were showing to help Syaoran.

"Nope, not a chance!" Fai shrugged, impossibly wide grin in place. Kurogane grumbled at his uselessness.

"We could speak to Yuuko!" Mokona offered, and before they could respond, a hologram of the Dimension Witch had appeared, staring down at them with her usual smirk.

"Can we have an earlier warning next time?!" Kurogane raged, having flinched back at the suddenness of her appearance.

"Ah, Mokona," Yuuko said indulgently, her smirk growing wider at Kurogane's flustered expression. "What can I do for you?"

"Wh-What is that!" Chun-Hyang demanded, clearly having never seen such technology before. It was probably closer to magic than technology, but Harry had seen muggles using it before.

"We need something to help us break the wards surrounding the castle," Syaoran said calmly, clearly ignoring the girl's bewilderment to discuss more pertinent matters.

Yuuko hummed. "You have two magicians in your group. Or wizard, whichever the term they prefer," she added, winking at Harry, who made no response. To be honest, he had not anticipated seeing her again. How was he supposed to act – grateful, or pretend that she hadn't practically offered his world its only chance at survival?

"Harry here can't break it, as do I," Fai said, and there was an edge in his voice that Harry could not decipher. "I turned over the source of my magic to you."

"The markings that made up your payment to me were a device that held your powers in check. They are now originally as it should be," Yuuko said, clearly ignoring the hidden warning in Fai's voice.

Harry almost took a step back in shock. He turned to gaze intently at the magician, who had a cheery smile firmly fixed on his face, though his eyes were colder than ever. Fai was clearly unhappy that Yuuko had revealed that.

But that was not important at the moment. What was important was that the man had lied to their faces. The tattoo was not his means of defense. He had never given up his means of defense like he had claimed in Hanshin. Which meant that Harry had been vulnerable and near to a metaphorical basilisk all the while – cunning and secretive, all along holding the power in their little group.

His first reaction was anger and betrayal, which was ridiculous given how he had never allowed himself to trust the other man in the first place. But then his mind wandered off to another important tangent.

Why would Fai want to suppress his powers?

Or perhaps, someone else had done it. Was the man a threat? But then, why would he be unhappy about losing the restriction? Did he -and Merlin this was a ridiculous notion-  _want_ his powers to be restricted?

Harry filed all his theories into his growing list of observations, deeply unsettled. He had the terrible feeling that he was stepping into a situation bigger than he could ever imagine.

So unsettled he was, that he had missed Fai's reply to Yuuko's unspoken question, and the next thing he knew, Fai was withdrawing his staff from the wardrobe. Harry couldn't help it – he tensed at the action, his magic already unsettled at the theories he had formed.

He knew the other man had caught his instinctive reaction, but Fai merely smiled reassuringly and passed the staff over to Mokona, whose mouth opened bigger than it should be able to and swallowed the entire staff whole. The rest of the group was gaping in shock, but Harry had seen far weirder, and he was too preoccupied with the issue of Fai to really care.

"Well, let's go," Syaoran said, grasping the magical device from Yuuko tightly. Kurogane and Fai got up immediately. Harry, from where he was leaning against the wall, suddenly felt awkward.

Should he go with them?

He had promised Hermione, and himself, a long time ago that he would never jump into a battle without due consideration.

But the Ryanban was there. The realization made him straighten immediately, thoughts of revenge already pumping adrenaline into his body.

The Ryanban was no better than the muggles who stole the magic of countless wizards and witches and used it to fight against them. Harry would kill him, just as he had killed those muggles.

"Yeah, let's go," he echoed, and there was a predatory edge to his smile.

The three looked surprised at first, clearly not having expected his help. After all, he had watched idly while they fought in Hanshin. Harry could see the moment when all three realized that he was fighting to kill the Ryanban, and his smile grew marginally wider. Kurogane shot him an evaluating look which he ignored easily.

"I want to come too!" Chun-Hyang immediately shouted.

"No," Harry said sharply before he could stop himself. He met the startled stares from the rest with his usual blank expression, crossing his arms defensively.

"I need you to protect Princess Sakura," Syaoran said soothingly, trying to soften the blow.

"I can fight! I want to come with you," Chun-Hyang protested stubbornly.

Syaoran looked at Fai and Kurogane helplessly, who only shrugged, both as lost about what to do.

"I'm not good with kids," Kurogane said dismissively.

"Yeah, Kuro-tan is too gruff for little kids, isn't he?" Fai immediately teased, eliciting a growl from Kurogane.

"Why don't you do it then?!" Kurogane demanded.

Harry sighed. Were they really wasting time over this? Praying for patience, he went over to Chun-Hyang, who was only slightly shorter than him. Still, he knelt down so he could talk to her face-to-face.

"Listen," he said, making sure to soften his voice and smile warmly at her. She was still wary of him from his earlier display. "You are important and we cannot risk you. Sakura is very important to all of us and we need someone to protect her while we're gone. Besides, after the Ryanban is gone, we need someone to represent the townspeople when the Amenosa comes. That's you. Do you understand? None of this will be worth it if the news does not get to the government."

"I need to avenge my mother," she said, tears already falling as she realized that they would not be persuaded.

"Would your mother want you to kill?" Harry asked bluntly.

She was struck speechless at his words, then defiantly, "You are going to kill him too!"

"Ah, yes," he said smoothly, not bothering to deny it. "But this is not about me. Would your mother want you to kill him? Or would she want you to help the town return to its former prosperity?" She didn't say anything, and he stood. "Well, think on it. If you still decide to come I won't stop you anymore."

"I-I'll stay," she finally muttered, looking down at the ground.

"Well then, let's go," Harry said, and turned, walking away from the house. He felt, rather than saw, the rest of them following him silently.

"You are good with kids, huh," Fai said, once they were a distance away from Chun-Hyang and Sakura. Harry shrugged. He was alright at it. Hermione and Ginny had been better. Still, after all his experience talking with the terrified Hogwarts students during the siege, he had picked up a few tips here and there.

"What you said was rather hypocritical, though," Kurogane pointed out bluntly.

Harry did not take offense. It  _was_ hypocritical. He shrugged again.

"Will you really kill him?" Syaoran asked seriously, and Harry tilted his head to the side to look at the boy who had moved to walk beside him.

"I'll try my best," Harry promised, turning his lips up in a slight smile.

The rest of the walk was spent in awkward silence, no one knowing what to say to him. Harry would not have been surprised if they saw him a crazed mass murderer. He barely stopped himself from laughing at the allusion to Sirius, and silently admitted to himself that he  _was_  slightly unhinged from the war.

They stopped at the giant gates leading to the castle, looking at it speculatively.

"Now, how should we-" Fai started, only to be cut off when Kurogane simply stomped up to the gates and pushed them open. "You shouldn't do that, you know," he said lightly, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice. Harry had to agree with the magician. There could have been magical traps hidden behind them.

But there were none, and the gates creaked open to show an impressive view. It was almost as if they had been transported up into the sky suddenly, and they gazed down at the town from above. Kurogane and Syaoran let out exclamations of surprise.

"Impressive," Harry merely said, and it was true. Hogwarts' wards created an illusion of ruins, but this...this was extremely powerful magic. It far surpassed Hogwarts' wards. He briefly contemplated interrogating the answers on how to create such a ward from the Ryanban before killing him.

"What do we do now?" Syaoran asked uncertainly, holding the magical device from Yuuko and looking between Harry and Fai.

Surprisingly, the answer came from Mokona. "Throw it!" Mokona shouted, from where she was perched on Kurogane's shoulder.

"Throw it?" Syaoran repeated.

"You have to throw it as far as you can to hit the wards!"

Syaoran hesitated slightly, but nodded. In a fluid and graceful motion, he had tossed the device up and delivered it towards the castle with a powerful kick. The device soared through the air, and Harry could feel the moment it touched the wards. There was an impressive explosion of pure power, and with it followed a wave of raw magic that seemed to suffocate him.

"Fuck," Harry muttered as he was forced to his knees, struggling desperately to draw breath. His magic felt sluggish and it slipped through his hold like liquid when he tried to draw it out.

What kind of magic was the Ryanban dabbling with?

"Harry!" Syaoran was shouting, panic written all over his face. "Are you okay?" He pulled Harry up. Harry stumbled slightly, feeling light-headed.

"I'm fine," he slurred, leaning against the boy.

"His magic is not reacting well to the magic the Ryanban is using," Fai said quietly. "Though I have never seen two magics clash so badly before."

With the stubbornness and willpower that had got him through the most difficult of situations, Harry forced himself to his feet.

"I am fine," he repeated, pulling up all his Occlumency shields to full strength, which dulled the suffocating sensation. "We should go."

"If you are sure," Syaoran said uncertainly.

Harry nodded, unable to verbalize his feelings again. He felt weighed down, and every step he took was like walking through sludge.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He was fully aware that he was in an extremely vulnerable state, and he hated every second of it, knowing that his companions could overpower him if they should wish.

Breathe in, breathe out.

What the hell was going on with his magic?

He was so preoccupied with regulating his breathing – Merlin, it took a considerable effort to even breathe properly – that he only realized that they were walking in circles when Syaoran bent down to pick up a piece of rock he had placed on the ground at the start.

"We are walking in circles," Syaoran said, frowning.

"So what now?" Kurogane asked, eying a random wall speculatively. "Maybe if we break all the walls..."

"Ah," Fai said quietly, a hand reached out to the wall in front of him, and Harry could feel the sheer power that radiated from the man as he reached out with his magical senses. Fai's magic was turbulent and chaotic, but it was comforting compared to the heaviness of the magic the Ryanban was using. Somehow, Fai's magic felt...soothing. Harry's own magic reached out for Fai's magic without his control, and Fai's blue eyes cut sharply to him for a brief instant before he looked back at the wall, so fast that Harry was unsure if he had imagined the quick glance.

"It should be this wall," Fai said, looking as unruffled as usual. "The magic here is the strongest."

The little piece of Fai's magic his own had stolen was enough to shield him from the suffocating power. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he said quietly to the man as Kurogane smashed the wall down.

Clear blue eyes met his and Harry thought he saw a brief flicker of...fear? But then Fai smiled and there was warmth in his blue eyes, and Harry wondered if he was seeing things.

"Shouldn't you be unable to use magic?" Kurogane asked, directing a knowing stare at the magician.

"Ah," Fai said, smiling brightly. "This isn't magic, but intuition."

Harry had sensed Fai's magic. Kurogane and Syaoran also seemed to doubt Fai's denial, but said nothing. Harry wondered how often the magician lied. He was beginning to feel that the magician lied a lot, hiding himself behind that false cheery smile.

They stepped past the rubble, into a room that was empty save for the woman standing in the middle of the room.

"What are you?" Kurogane asked rudely, earning a snigger from Fai beside him. He shot Fai a death glare.

"Tsk tsk, how rude. Years of evolution, and this is how you humans have ended up. Mere insects," The woman scoffed, smirking. Then, before anyone could respond, "But I'll let it go for today. You see, it's been so long since I've had guests. I'll like to have a little...fun."

"Can you tell us where the Ryanban is?" Syaoran pressed, ignoring her subtle threats.

"I could," she said teasingly, her smirk growing wider as Syaoran seemed to straighten slightly. "But...I won't."

"Stop playing mind games with us," Harry said sharply, stepping out from where he had stood behind Fai and Kurogane.

The woman's smirk disappeared entirely. For a moment she gaped soundlessly at him, and they exchanged confused looks, not having expected such a sudden change in her demeanour.

"Who are you?" She demanded, and Harry noticed her eyes flicker.

He met her eyes squarely, slightly curious about her reaction. "I'm here to kill the Ryanban," he said bluntly, figuring that there was no point in being polite. "And eliminate all... obstacles that try to stop me."

Another flicker.

Was she afraid of him?

She tilted her head slightly, her lips twitching into an amused smile. "You don't know, do you?" She asked cryptically.

"Know what?" Kurogane demanded. Both ignored him in favor of staring down the other.

"You don't know," she repeated, her smile growing wider.

"Step aside," Harry ordered, refusing to be baited. "Tell us where the Ryanban is and I'll let you go."

She moved so fast that everyone was caught of guard. In an instant, she was in front of Harry, long nails tracing his face, threateningly close to his eyes. "So cute," she purred. "I see why _He_  likes you, now."

Emerald eyes stared back unflinchingly. "Who?" He hissed, digging the knife he had snagged from Chun-Hyang's kitchen against her abdomen, ready to plunge it into her at the slightest movement.

"Your magic," she breathed reverently, moving fearlessly closer, even as the knife dug harder into her.

His eyes widened slightly, completely taken aback at her response. She took advantage of his momentary confusion, and he felt his vision tilt roughly; there was a rush of colour and sound, then came pain. He groaned, feeling some of his ribs crack as he slid down the wall he had slammed into bonelessly.

Fai, Kurogane, and Syaoran were already moving – but she was faster than they had expected, dodging their blows with ease.

"Damn it," Harry gasped, forcing himself to his feet. The four were a blur of fists, kicks and multi-coloured lights. He traced the long scratches on his neck, gazing at the warm blood that stained his fingers with growing anger. His mind was thinking furiously.

She could have killed him, but instead she spared him. Why?

Kurogane had managed to slam her down, pushing her face into the ground roughly. Fai and Syaoran loomed over her, faces drawn with anger.

"You alright, Harry?" Syaoran asked, without turning his attention from the woman.

"Yeah," he muttered, letting his bloodied hand fall to his side. He took a step forward and barely resisted a gasp as a fresh wave of pain overcame him.

"Harry?" Fai asked, hearing the suppressed gasp of pain. Blue eyes flickered momentarily to the shaky figure by the wall, but he kept his posture tense and ready to fight should the woman move.

"I'm fine," Harry said calmly, pushing the pain he felt to the back of his mind. He had built up a high pain tolerance over the years, and this was barely pushing the limits of what he could take.

"Too bad you're just a half-breed," she hissed from the ground, glaring at him. Kurogane tightened his hold on her in warning, but she merely smirked.

"You are not a witch, but you have magic," Harry said quietly, feeling the thrum of magic in the air. It felt familiar and comforting, but unknown and dangerous at the same time. He limped closer to the group, ignoring how his right leg stuck out at an odd angle. He deliberately let his gaze slid over to her dark eyes, resisting a smirk when she met his eyes squarely.

He struck, fast and strong. Expertly slithering into her mind, he extended a tendril of magic, easily snapping the thread of magic that controlled her. The moment the thread snapped, he retreated from her mind as quickly as he had entered. He could sense the powerful well of magic in her, rearing up to protect her mind as soon as the link had broken.

There was no outward sign that she had been released from the spell, except the slight softening of her gaze when she glanced at Harry.

"You need to master your magic," she merely said, before she released a wave of power that threw his three companions away from her.

"What the hell was that?" Kurogane demanded as he got to his feet immediately, shifting into a defensive position. Fai and Syaoran mirrored him, though Fai was slightly less aggressive. He had clearly realized that something had changed.

She smiled, taking a seat in the couch behind her that had appeared out of nowhere. "That was me deciding to let you miserable creatures past," she said, leaning back with a smirk. "You are not worth my time."

"What?" Syaoran voiced out, completely lost at the sudden change of demeanor.

Kurogane's eyes were narrowed, clearly having worked out that something in her had changed, but unsure what.

"Perhaps we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth?" Harry suggested, not looking away from the woman. He felt more than saw the surprised glances directed at him, and smiled faintly. "Go on ahead. I can deal with her just fine. We shouldn't be wasting time here."

"Let's go," Kurogane muttered after a moment of silence. Harry had expected him to be the hardest to convince, and glanced at the man in surprise. Knowing dark eyes met his and he turned away quickly, breaking eye contact. Kurogane was more observant than he let on, he realized, knowing that he had once again underestimated his companion.

"That way will lead you to the Ryanban," She said, nodding at the door that had magically appeared out of nowhere. They waited as the three walked out, the sound of their footsteps growing progressively weaker as they got further away.

"You should go with them too," she finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. "I cannot say any more."

"What do you know about my magic?" Harry insisted stubbornly, eyes dark with determination.

"I won't say any more, love," she repeated.

"Why did you call me a half-breed? What is in my magic?" Harry pushed on relentlessly, irritated when she merely looked bored at his demands.

"Say something or I'll make you," he hissed threateningly, baring his teeth in a snarl.

She sighed. "You have to master your magic," she said simply. "Now leave. I may be grateful for your help in breaking the Ryanban's control but I am becoming irritated by your childish demands. I still have a score to settle with the Ryanban."

His eyes flashed with anger, and without thinking, he was moving forward, a ball of magic forming in his palm.

"Damn it!" Harry cursed as she disappeared without warning, leaving his curse to splash harmlessly on the wall. He took a deep breath, reigning his frustration in.

A particularly painful throb reminded him of his broken leg, which he had unknowingly put pressure on when he had tried to curse her. "Crur Emendo," he muttered, tapping his broken right leg with his fingers. He gritted his teeth as his bones were forcibly mended and snapped back together. He had never been as good as Hermione with the healing spells, nor as gentle.

He decided not to waste his magic reserves with the scratches on his neck. They were more of an irritation than anything else, and would not hinder him in a battle.

He left by the door the woman had indicated, following a long hallway, before pausing when he saw a crumpled figure at a corner. A closer inspection revealed it to be the Ryanban's son.

"What a loser," Harry muttered, levitating the unconscious man into the air. It was slightly tiring to keep up the spell, but he figured that the potential blackmail benefits he could get out of the man was well worth the effort.

He made his way to the door at the end of the hallway briskly, not wanting to miss out on the beating that the rest of his companions were undoubtedly unleashing on the Ryanban.

"Ah, did I miss the party," he muttered out loud when he saw that the room was filled with the villagers, all holding sticks and glaring angrily at the Ryanban. His companions stood to a side, looking slightly worse for the wear. As he watched, Syaoran released a feather in his hand, which descended into Sakura's body in a wave of magical light. Sakura fell unconscious, Syaoran cradling her protectively.

The oppressive pressure that had weighed on his magic seemed to have disappeared, and Harry smirked as his magic seemed to sing in delight.

"He tried to mind control the villagers into attacking us, and Chun-Hyang showed up with Sakura to break the spell," Fai summarized for him as he raised a questioning eyebrow at the chaos in the room.

"My son!" The Ryanban shouted, the beads of sweat dotting his forehead betraying his fear. All eyes turned to Harry, who merely smiled and wriggled his fingers slightly, savouring the look of panic on the Ryanban's face when his son flopped around in mid-air, held like a puppet by invisible strings.

"How about a fair trade?" He asked lightly, unable to resist a grin as the Ryanban tried not to show his obvious fear. "Your life for your son's."

"Harry," Syaoran said quietly, but Harry ignored him easily, as he did with Fai's and Kurogane's judging stares.

"No can do," the Kiishimu purred as she suddenly appeared from the shadows, her long nails moving dangerously close to the Ryanban's eyes as she grabbed him from behind. "He's mine."

Harry narrowed his eyes, glaring at the woman who had the gall to steal what was his. "I got to him first," he argued, and flopped the Ryanban's son around some more, watching in delight as the Ryanban cried out in fear for his son.

"Leave my son alone, please," the Ryanban begged. "Take me instead! Please, spare him!"

" _Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything-Please, no, take me instead!"_

He inhaled sharply, startled. For a moment... for a moment he had thought he had seen the figure of Lily Potter pleading with Voldemort to save his life instead-

He blinked several times, and glanced back at the Ryanban. It was the Ryanban. It was not Lily Potter.

"Fine," Harry said abruptly, releasing the Ryanban's son gently to the ground. His voice was rougher than usual, and he looked away from the man, not wanting to see the pleading figure of Lily Potter in the despicable man. He took a few steps back from the prone figure, showing that he would not hurt the Ryanban's son.

"Thank you-thank you so much-" was the Ryanban's last words as he was dragged away by the Kiishimu, to what was inevitably his death. There was no longer fear in his voice, but a profound gratefulness and relief that cut Harry to the core.

When had he become exactly like Voldemort?

 

End Chapter 4


	5. Burning

Harry watched apathetically as the four horses they had procured move nervously back as they approached. He stopped where he was, while the four moved forward and proceeded to climb up.

"Harry?" Sakura prompted.

"You should go first," he said calmly, already noting the familiar signs of distress resignedly. Tensed muscles, teeth grinding, tail swishing agitatedly. He had never been good around horses.

Or any kind of animal, actually.

"What's wrong?" Syaoran asked, frowning slightly. Harry could see from the way he eyed the horses that he had noticed their agitation.

"I'll find you in Spirit," he promised, easily side-stepping the question.

"Well, let's go then," Fai said, accepting this easily. He smiled reassuringly at Harry as he pushed his horse into a steady trot down the road. The rest followed silently, and Harry ignored the worried glance Sakura cast him as they went. He watched them go, and once they were far enough he turned back. The horse meant for him had bolted long ago, as he had expected, and he trudged back to the inn.

"Back again?" The innkeeper asked curiously. "Where are the rest?"

"They went on ahead," Harry said shortly. "Do you know where I can find weapons?"

The innkeeper was taken aback. "Why would you need weapons for?"

"We were robbed not long ago," Harry said smoothly. "As you know, the road can be dangerous. And now, with the strange happenings at Spirit, it would be best for us to be prepared. I'm in charge of stocking up on our supplies."

"Ah," the innkeeper said, dawning comprehension and understanding on his face. "Well, just go out here and take a left. Follow the path and you'll see it. Tell them Sam the innkeeper sent you!"

"Great," Harry said, quirking his lips in a practised polite smile. "Thank you for your help."

He pushed his way back out of the inn, wrapping his cloak more securely around himself. His hand clutched a money bag that he had managed to steal. While the money Sakura had earned from her unnatural luck at cards had been substantial, it had gone into getting them clothes to help them fit in and their meal.

His stomach clenched at the reminder and he winced slightly. He hadn't eaten since he left his world. Besides the occassional fruit he had sneaked from the carts in Koryo, he had survived on a diet of copious amount of conjured water. He was aware that his magic could not support him for much longer, and that he would need to eat real food soon.

Vanishing food wandlessly while he was eating it had to be one of the hardest things he had ever done, both magically and mentally. It was worth it, Harry reminded himself, as he trudged through the thick snow. It was worth it, because his instincts had never failed him thus far, and they told him that the group he was travelling with was dangerous, no matter how friendly they appeared.

He stopped in front of a battered looking shop. Determining that it must be the weapon shop Sam had talked about, he pushed the door open. There was a soft chime that announced his arrival and he peered at the old man that appeared.

"Excuse me," he greeted. "Sam the innkeeper sent me here."

The old man surveyed him with bright eyes. "Ah yes, yes," he mumbled. "Anything specific you are looking for?"

"Not really," Harry said, after a short pause. While he knew his weapons, he was in a completely different world and they might not even have heard of the weapons he used. "I'll like to see what you have first."

The old man narrowed his eyes, slightly suspicious of a man who held himself with the stance of a fighter, yet so seemingly ignorant. "Alright. This way." He led Harry to another room, where he kept all the weapons.

Harry hid a frown as he glanced briefly around the room. The weapons mostly comprised of clubs, swords and spears, all of which were too inconspicuous. Moreover, he had never learned how to wield such weapons.

He spied some smaller weapons and immediately moved to that corner, and was pleased to find some throwing daggers. He picked one up, finding that it was balanced, which he preferred.

"Do you have heavier ones?" He asked.

"It was sold," the old man replied. Harry considered. It was slightly lighter than what he was used to, but with practice, and magic, he would be able to adjust easily. He made up his mind.

"Alright, I'll get that."

"Anything else?"

He cast one last glance around the room, and decided, "No, that'll be all."

Harry stepped out of the store, money pouch lighter than before but feeling much more secure. He had not been aware of just how  _hard_ it had been walking around without his weapons until now. There had never been time, or shops available, in the previous worlds.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, seeing the snow start to fall. He briefly considered returning to the inn and only setting off when the snow stopped. The idea of a warm meal in this cold weather was tempting, though he probably would have to hold out a bit longer, lest the innkeeper become suspicious of a man who ate again after having lunch with his companions. "They can manage on their own for a while," he decided, and drawing his cloak closer, made his way back to the inn.

* * *

 

"Where is that kid?" Kurogane grumbled, peering out of the window, where it was snowing heavily outside.

"You're worried about him," Fai sang teasingly, easily ignoring Kurogane's glare. Then, sobering, he added "Harry can take care of himself, you know."

Kurogane's eyes sharpened, and he turned to look at the magician. "You're talking about his past."

Fai smiled, the smile not reaching his blue eyes. "He's a strong one. He has obviously suffered, but he's still fighting."

"Just like you," Kurogane said shrewdly, observing closely as Fai's fake smile dimmed slightly in surprise. Dark eyes met light blue ones, and Fai looked away first.

Silence reigned between them for a few moments. "I'm not as strong as you think," Fai said, so quietly that he barely heard his own voice.

"His past doesn't matter," Kurogane said brusquely, as if he had not heard the quiet words. "I see people as they are now, not as they were before. He looks like a kid, acts like one, and I'll treat him like one."

Fai chuckled, ignoring the double meaning of his words. "He wouldn't be happy if he heard that."

Kurogane got to his feet, closing the curtains. "I suspect he would rather we treat him as he is, rather than as he was. As you would." Then, before Fai could reply, he strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

 

"Great," Harry muttered under his breath as he stumbled again and almost fell. The snow was up to his knees and it was hell trying to walk through it. He sighed, looking up at the darkening sky in consternation. He had left the inn early yesterday morning, carrying only the meagre food supplies he had purchased from the innkeeper and his weapons. He had trudged through the snow for hours, with minimal breaks in between, and it was almost night again.

His back and legs ached, but it was nothing compared to the burning pain he pushed himself to during the war. Still, the journey was more tedious than he had expected, and despite his best efforts, he estimated that he had only progressed by a couple miles.

Reaching out to break a branch off a nearby tree, he placed it on his palm and said "Point me Sakura." The branch spun and pointed to a huge pile of rocks to his right.

"Now I'll have to go around that shit," he cursed. The Point Me spell was unable to point out possible paths to their location, only the general direction, and he had been stupidly going around huge obstacles and dead ends for hours.

Once again he contemplated using a warming charm to melt the snow in his path. "Get over it, Potter," he muttered irritably. "You can't waste your magic." His magic levels were depleted from trying to keep his body going while he had starved himself, and the warming charm he had cast on himself had nearly taken him out.

It would have been easy if he had his wand. Once again he mentally cursed the Death Eaters for taking his wand, almost tripping again in his agitation.

He trudged on for a few more hours, before night fell and it got so dark that continuing to travel, even with the aid of a Lumos charm, would be unwise. Harry sat near a tree, relying on his hearing and limited vision to make out any possible dangers. "No fire tonight," he thought to himself, fully aware that he had to conserve his energy whereever possible. It would be difficult, but the Order had done this before.

He fell into a light sleep, the warming charm driving away the cold sufficiently well. He woke as dawn broke, and spared a moment to stretch before continuing his journey, noting with dismay that it had snowed again.

Hours later into his trek he stopped as he encountered a raging river.

"Point me Sakura," he said, and the branch spun to point directly in front of him. He looked up, and for a moment his breath was taken away at the magnificient castle in front of him.

_It was burning, crumbling...-"Run, Harry!" explosion shaking the Astronomy tower, screaming "You can't do any-""He's gone-"tears that burned "I can't leave him!" struggling shoving Fiendfyrecrumblingshakingfallingsmoke-_

Harry shook his head, and the castle was back to normal. He blinked away the unbidden tears that had risen up, clenching his fist.

When Hogwarts had fallen, he had never thought that he would ever have the chance to see another castle again.

He pushed the memories away, looking away from the castle to compose himself. "Focus, Potter," he muttered angrily, and forced himself to look back at the castle without flinching. The screams from his memories had faded slightly, soft enough for him to ignore.

Focusing his mind on the current issue, he glanced down at the stick, still pointing forward. He briefly wondered how they had crossed the river, horses and all. Yet after an hour of looking around, he was forced to admit that even if there was some kind of hidden mechanism, he could not find it.

"Magic it is, then," he thought. His magic levels should have replenished sufficiently for this.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he intoned, choosing the easiest and least magically taxing spell he could think of. He floated himself across the river, landing gently on the other side.

His mouth went dry as he looked back at the castle, his heart pounding furiously. Summoning up his willpower, he walked slowly towards it, fighting off memories of Hogwarts with every single step, and pushed the large stone doors open.

It wasn't what he had expected.

He had expected stone torches burning merrily, moving portraits and staircases, suits of armour. He was faced with simple stone floors and walls, with minimal lighting. It was...anticlimatic to say the least. A part of him, however, was glad for the stark contrast from Hogwarts. It helped him differentiate the two.

Going further in, he could see a few portraits hung around, unmoving of course, but enough for him to determine that the castle had once been opulently furnished. He wondered what had happened to make that change.

Try as he might, he couldn't see his companions sleeping in this castle. It was utterly bare, hung with cobwebs and dust. What were they doing here instead of at the town the innkeeper had mentioned?

A slow suspicion began to grow in his mind. The Point Me spell could only track one person by name, and he had settled on Sakura under the assumption that while Kurogane, Fai, Syaoran or even Mokona might be separated from the group, no one would leave Sakura out of their sight. Syaoran was so protective over her that the very thought was laughable.

Except that the thought was becoming less laughable with every step he took, with every glance he took at the so obviously abandoned castle. Subconsciously, he had fallen into the state of mind he always did when on infiltration missions. His body was tense, ready to spring at the slightest provocation. He narrowed his eyes, attempting to get a better view of his surroundings. The castle was dark, and he was saving his magic for the potential fight later, so eyesight-enhancing charms were out. A Lumos might alert the enemy.

The whole place was dusty, which made for good tracking. He took in the numerous footprints on the ground grimly, leading down the stairs. To the dungeons, perhaps? The information he got from the tiny footprints on the floor was disturbing. It told him that there were many kids trapped here with Sakura, that he was in Princess Emeraude's castle, where the kids were said to have disappeared to. It told him that something had happened to Sakura, possibly knocking her unconscious or killing her. There was undoubtedly magic involved; it was otherwise impossible for Sakura to enter, or be carried in, without her footprints, nor the abductor's, anywhere.

He followed the footprints, resigning himself to the fact that the footprints he left behind would alert the abductor immediately. Reasoning that leaving footprints rather than traces of his magic would be wiser, he slinked down the stairs, as quiet as a shadow.

A loud thump startled him, and he tensed further, stopping beside the entrance to what was probably a cell. His breathing was shallow, quiet, and he readied himself, before leaning over to peer into the cell.

"Sakura?" he breathed, surprised when he saw that it was her, tugging at a chain vehemently. She startled, and dropped the chain, making a loud clanking noise that made him wince. If the enemy was near, they would undoubtedly be making their way over. They had little time.

"Harry?" She gasped. "Why are you here? Where am I?" She attempted to get near the bars, but the chain around her ankle stopped her from going further, and she hissed in frustration.

He was careful to stand away from the bars, aware that they had little time, but unsure of Sakura's state of mind. "What was the name of the girl I told you about?"

"Luna," She replied, looking confused at the seemingly random question. Harry nodded, satisfied for now, and pulled the piece of wood holding the doors together out, opening the cell and moving towards her.

"Listen," he said urgently, his ears straining to hear any sounds of an enemy approach. "We're in Princess Emeraude's castle, from the legend. We need to go, I don't know when the enemy will come."

"Princess Emeraude! I saw her!" Sakura gasped. "She was leading the children away, and I followed...I'm not sure how I ended up here." He unlocked the cuff on her ankle easily, and it fell to the floor uselessly. She stood up immediately, backing a few steps away from him.

"But," she hesitated. "How are you here?"

For a brief moment he felt proud, that she was becoming more cautious. There was only a prickle of hurt, deep deep inside, at her distrust. After all, they weren't close enough for unconditional trust, he told himself.

"I used a tracking spell to find you guys. I chose your name as my focus, and it led me here. I figured you were in trouble." He paused for a second. "Would you mind if I checked you for signs of mind tampering?"

"Sure," she said, satisfied by his explanation and moving closer. She was still too trusting, he thought, what if he had lied? Still, her trusting nature worked out in his favour for now, so he would keep quiet. He tapped her on her head, allowing his magic to scan her for any foreign magics, and immediately flinched back as his magic recoiled. He stumbled back, staring at her dumbly.

Sakura, who had startled when he flinched, looked deeply concerned, moving closer to his frozen form. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," he cleared his throat, still reeling from the shock. She...was magical? It was dormant, and was more difficult to recognize, unlike Fai's, but...

It had rejected him. His magic had felt _wrong,_ and even now, he was hard-pressed to resist a shiver at the memory. For a moment...he had thought he would disappear. A gut feeling told him that if he had not withdrawn in time, he would have disappeared.

"Harry?" She prompted worriedly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he said, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. There was so much he had to think about, but for now they had to get out, before they were found. He was relatively confident that her magic (and it  _was_ hers, he could tell) would fight against any spells they could put on her, what with how aggressively it had fought against his magic. "We need to go."

"We need to save the children," she agreed, and he paused to stare at her. That hadn't been what he meant...he had wanted to bring her out of the castle immediately. "They are children," she repeated, catching his incredulous stare, as if that answered everything. It probably did, to her.

"I suppose they are," he acquiesced reluctantly. His moral compass was not as screwed as to make him want to sacrifice children, but it was such that he would if he had to. Experience told him it was a bad tactical decision to go after the children. He had lost track of how many times the Death eaters used them as hostages, which landed everyone in trouble in the end, or how many times they had lost men because they didn't know to get out while they still could, insisting on saving more people, killing everyone in the end.

He followed her closely as she tracked the footprints, keeping his senses sharp for any danger. The dark corridor opened up to a huge room. He paused at the doorway cautiously, as was appropriate when infiltrating an unknown place, but Sakura simply breezed through it unconcernedly.

"Sakura!" He hissed, and ran after her. He skidded to a stop next to her, realizing that they were not alone. A dozen children stared at them dazedly, and Harry tensed when he noticed the familiar signs of mind control. Damn it, he had known that it was a mistake...

There was movement from the middle of a crowd, and he raised his hand, a blasting curse at the tip of his tongue. It could help create a distraction and cover their tracks as they ran. And if it had the potential to kill some of the children starting to surround them, well, they would have lesser pursuers to deal with.

Sakura raised her hand over his, pushing his hand down. "We can't hurt them," she whispered, staring apprehensively at them. As she spoke, a child emerged from the middle of the crowd, raising a crystal up to her. Harry was about to blast the object to pieces when Sakura gasped. "My feather! Thank you," she said sincerely to the child, receiving it and hugging it to her chest.

"They are surrounding us," he said tersely. Feather or not, they would be in trouble if they didn't run now.

Sakura tensed from beside him, and he immediately turned to look at what she was staring at. There was ripple in the air, slowly solidifying into the shape of a long-haired woman.

"Princess Emeraude?" Sakura whispered quietly.

The princess nodded, smiling sadly. Then her eyes moved over to Harry, and he saw a speculative gleam in her eyes. "You can see me, too?"

He nodded. While he had never faced threat from a ghost before (excepting the menace that was Peeves) he was in a different world, where ghosts might have the power to hurt others. The legend did her no favours. "Why are you here?" He asked, moving forward an inch so that Sakura was behind him.

"The feather has finally returned to its rightful owner," she said instead, nodding at the feather Sakura held closely. "These children, they were made to come here to extract it, being small enough to fit through the passageway. I couldn't help them. Please bring them back home."

"The legend said you brought them here," Harry said bluntly, still wary of her. "Was it wrong?"

She smiled. "No, it was correct.  _All legends are based in fact._ There was an epidemic back then, and many children died from it. This feather fell from the sky. I found that for some reason, the disease did not affect children standing near the feather, and hence brought them to the castle, hoping to protect them-"

"Someone is coming," Harry said sharply, cutting her off. They turned to the doorway, just in time to see a man stumble to a stop. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Harry.

"Get away from him, Sakura! He's dangerous!" He yelled, looking flustered. "He took all those children from their homes!"

Harry surveyed the man carefully. He hesitated to probe too deeply, just in case, but a brief magical scan had told him that the man either had no magical powers, or was a master at deception. If so, he had to tread carefully.

"How did you get into the castle?" He asked neutrally, ignoring the accusation.

"Sakura, quick, get away from him!" The man continued, ignoring the question, which further irritated Harry.

"He's our-" Sakura started to defend him, but Harry glanced back to give her a curt shake of his head. This wasn't the time to be revealing information to a potential enemy.

He heard more footsteps, and braced himself for a fight. His throwing daggers were within reach, and his magic low, but sufficient, if he planned this carefully.

To his surprise, the people who entered were his companions, rather than the man's back-up. "Harry?" Syaoran uttered, shocked, before his eyes found Sakura, behind Harry. "Sakura!"

"Good to see you, kid," Kurogane smirked.

"Just tell me one thing," Harry said, keeping his eyes fixed on the man. "Is he on our side, or not?"

"That's certainly a way to simplify things," Fai said lightly. "Nope."

In a split-second, his dagger was flying, aimed at the man's head. Harry prided himself on his lightning quick reflexes, but the man was surprisingly faster, dodging the dagger. It embedded itself on the wall with a loud thunk.

But Harry was already moving. He pushed Sakura roughly into Syaoran's arms, to get her out of the crossfire. Ignoring the yelp of surprise from Sakura, he withdrew another dagger, but hesitated to throw it again, when the man grabbed a child and placed a knife at her throat triumphantly.

"Let her go," Syaoran demanded, steering Sakura behind him.

His right hand, clutching the dagger, was already outstretched towards the man, so it was ridiculously easy. A twitch of his index finger, a muttered "Expelliarmus", and the man was disarmed. Harry caught the knife easily.

Kurogane was immediately on top of the man, wrestling him onto the floor. "What a loser," he muttered, smirk on his lips. With a sharp blow, he knocked the man unconscious, and stood, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes.

"Good job, guys," Fai made a strange sort of not-whistle. "What do we do with him now?"

Before anyone could answer, there was an ominous creak. As one, all of them looked up at the ceiling, which was starting to crack. There was the rushing sound of water nearby.

"The water-controlling device," Syaoran said suddenly, already understanding what was happening.

"Too rusty to work properly," Fai elaborated, when Harry frowned in confusion. "We should go."

Cracks danced its way through the ceiling and walls, and with a loud crash, a pillar collapsed, bringing a part of the ceiling down with it, even as a great wave of water descended on them.

"GRAB THE KIDS!" Fai yelled. Another pillar fell, raining debris on them. Dust was everywhere, and water rushed around their legs. He couldn't see anything. Was it just him, or was it getting darker?

"THIS WAY! THE PRINCESS TOLD ME!" Sakura?

"GO GO GO!" Kurogane.

Fire? It was burning. The water was burning? So much fire. Fiendfyre. No water. Who was the moron casting Aguamenti? They needed to run, run...

"HARRY!"

A hand was pulling him. Running...they were running? No, Albus...Albus was still-

The water was up to his chest by now. Fuck, didn't they know Fiendfyre was resistant against water? No, damn it, he needed-

"MOVE, DAMNIT!" Hands, hands everywhere, pulling him, dragging him away. No, no, no he needed to save-

"- _He's-_ IN SHOCK,  _-damnit Harry-_ WE NEED TO- _Ron, drag him-_ " The voice faded in and out. It sounded so far away...

No, damn it Hermione, didn't she understand? "Albus, Albus is still in there-" he tried to say, but everything was so  _hot, burning-_

There was a loud smack across his face. Hermione...slapped him? No, didn't she understand, Albus-no no no he was gone-

"WE'LL... KILLED...STAY...NOT...WORKING!" Someone was screaming.

_Kill me, Harry. Please._

No, he can't-

But he was drowning. It was freezing  _burning-_

Hands were everywhere, shoving him- _GET OFF-_ Everything was dark-  _Too bright, flames burning-_

_Run. Dimmed eyes._

_Run_

_Run_

He screamed, and the world exploded. Then it was burning again, and pure, blessed darkness.

 

End Chapter 5

_**They weren't close enough for unconditional trust.** _


	6. Of Promises and Old Friends

"He's burning up," Syaoran said worriedly. He took the ice pack from Sakura with a small smile, and placed it on Harry's forehead, watching as the man sighed slightly in relief. Sakura hovered nearby, fussing with Harry's blankets and making sure he was comfortable. They shared a helpless glance, well aware that there was nothing more they could do.

Syaoran sighed and took a seat, watching over the unconscious man. Said man was mumbling repeatedly in his sleep, his features flushed and drenched in cold sweat. Occasionally Syaoran caught brief snippets of pleading and begging, but also angry curses and vulgarities. Sakura fidgetted slightly everytime Harry spoke, uncomfortable with the curses he was sprouting but unwilling to leave his side.

"I'll go get some water for him," Sakura said quietly, after a particularly inventive string of curses that caused even Syaoran to flush in embarassment. For a moment he thought that she was excusing herself out of embarassment, but when he looked up he was taken aback to see that she looked slightly teary.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a low voice, reaching out to grab her arm.

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "I just wish there was more I could do to help him," she said in a pained whisper.

He nodded, and let her go. There were moments when he felt that he and Sakura were worlds apart, and this was one of those.

"What should I do, Father?" He whispered. The Sakura he knew was always innocent and cheerful, but this new Sakura was serious and quiet, more often than not keeping to herself. He feared what would happen to her as they went on, and the many obstacles they had yet to cross. One of their number was already down, almost dying to save them, and another was slowly drifting away.

"I hope she doesn't lose her innocence," he said to himself quietly, determination filling him. "I won't let that happen."

"Don't make me, Albus," Harry sobbed, startling Syaoran back to the present. He was shocked to see a tear appear from beneath closed lids, rolling down Harry's face to be absorbed into the pillow. Syaoran looked away, feeling as if he was intruding on something private.

A noise at the doorway made him look up, and he saw Sakura, cup in hand, her other hand covering her mouth as tears flowed silently down her face.

He stood, crossing over to her, and took the cup from her hand, setting it down on the bedside table. "We should leave," he said quietly to her, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "He wouldn't want us to see this." He steered her out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

She let out a quiet sob, and he wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to bury her head in his chest and cry.

They stood there for a long while, and Syaoran struggled to keep his emotions in check. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and saw Kurogane and Fai, having returned from their trip. The three men shared a long glance, and Syaoran shook his head in response to the silent question. Fai nodded, and he and Kurogane retreated.

As he tightened his arms around Sakura, Syaoran wondered if they would ever be the same again.

* * *

 

Everywhere hurt. He was barely aware of a soft soothing voice, threaded in the flashes of pain and explosions. It was as if he was listening to a broken radio, fading in and out, catching faint snippets of conversation that didn't make as much sense as it should have.

"...exhausted...journey..."

"...water...fading..."

"...magic...too weak...dangerous..."

"Where am I?" He tried to ask, but it came out as a soft groan. Immediately he heard the sound of curtains being drawn, and the light that had been pounding at his eyelids dimmed considerably.

Curtains?

"Tell Voldemort to go screw himself," he mumbled, still disorientated. There was a soft gasp and he forced his eyes open. His eyelids felt heavy. Mmm, this was new. He would have expected a few Crucios for his words. Were the Deatheaters getting sloppy?

He caught a few blurred shapes standing around him, and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots in his vision. Someone raised a cup to his lips, and he felt pure, refreshing water touch his dry lips. Instinct made him spit it out, and he knocked the cup away roughly.

There were a few hisses of shock, and he flinched, expecting a blow that never came. He straightened, confused. Was he with the Order, then? Had he been rescued?

His eyes fluttered shut as another wave of agony swept through him. He raised a hand to rub his eyes tiredly. "Just give me the goddamn potions, Snape," he mumbled, his other hand sweeping around blindly for the man.

"Drink your water, Harry," a gruff voice replied, and he stilled, opening his eyes immediately. It took a few more blinks before he could see the people around him clearly. He frowned at them stupidly for a few seconds before the memories came flooding back.

"Fuck," he groaned, raising his hand to cover his eyes. He hadn't had a panic attack for a few months, and it just had to come at the worst possible moment. Misery and guilt chewed at his insides, and he didn't dare remove his hand to look at them.

"I'm sorry," he finally said quietly, breaking the silence. He uncovered his eyes to meet their eyes, and had to avert his gaze to the hard ground immediately.

"Its not your fault," Sakura protested. Her eyes were red, and he got the impression that she had been crying. He shook his head, disagreeing with the statement but unwilling to pursue it at the moment.

"What happened to the children?" He asked, steeling himself for the worse. His voice was utterly emotionless and he made sure his face did not betray any trace of the terror he felt.

"They are fine. You got us out in time," Fai explained.

Harry crumpled into himself at the statement, and his emotionless mask dissolved. "Thank Merlin," he whispered shakily, releasing the breath he had been holding. All the tension had melted out of him, and he felt boneless and weak with relief. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, which had been blurred with tears.

The room was silent, and he weakly accepted the glass of water Sakura offerred him. He took a sip, using the moment to control his tumultous emotions.

"You should have left me there. That was...an unwise tactical decision," He finally said, borrowing the words Hermione used to say. His voice was surprisingly steady, betraying none of the turmoil he felt.

"Unwise tactical decision?" Syaoran echoed. "But we are a team, right? We don't leave people behind."

"The kid is right," Kurogane said. "I don't abandon comrades."

"You do if you want the rest to survive," Harry hissed fiercely, meeting his eyes. Kurogane's words had felt, in his current defensive state, like an admonishment. He had thought Kurogane and Fai, at least, would have understood. While he continued to blame himself for the comrades he had to abandon in failed war operations, he knew that there was nothing else to be done at that time.

"There's no point in surviving if we have to abandon you to do so," Sakura interrupted, surprising him. He looked up at her. She had a surprisingly strong gaze, even if her eyes were red and teary. "We are not going to abandon anyone." She sounded so firm when she said that that no one wanted to argue.

Except Harry, because he knew she was being naive.

"No," he said. "If this happens again, I want you to leave me behind." His voice was authoritative, the tone of voice he had used when commanding the Order. He fully understood then, that he was a liability. He had been so used to thinking otherwise that it had taken almost getting innocent kids killed by his failure to get him to see that. Beyond that, his life was even more fragile than before, and he could die anytime, leaving his world to burn.

He shook his head, cutting off any protests. "My world depends on me," he finally said, quietly. It was difficult, to confide to these people, who he was still struggling to trust fully, even if somehow, along the way, they had started to gain some of his trust. "If I die, it's...my world will be gone." He swallowed against the lump in his throat. "If this happens again, leave me behind. I only ask that you will one day make a trip to my world, after you have all accomplished what you set out to do, and complete what I couldn't." If he died, they were the only ones who he could depend on to fulfil the prophecy, the only ones he could see as having the remote possibility of killing Voldemort in his name, according to the prophecy, where  _either must die at the hand of the other,_ using  _power the Dark Lord knows not._

"I promise," Fai said quietly, the first to speak. Harry nodded at him gratefully. There were no words to describe his gratitude to the man.

"Me too," Sakura whispered. Syaoran nodded at Harry solemnly, his promise reflected in his eyes.

"I won't abandon comrades, Potter," Kurogane finally said. "But I won't abandon your world as well."

Harry managed a weak smile as he stared at his companions, who, despite not knowing him well, was willing to do this for him.

"In return, I swear I will do all that I can to help you accomplish your respective goals," he said quietly.

Their silent promises lingered in the room long after they left.

* * *

 

**Outo**

Harry and Kurogane shared a commiserating look as they lugged their bags along, while Fai dragged Syaoran and Sakura to the registration counter.

Harry was still feeling the aches and tiredness from the previous world. He recognized the feeling as magical exhaustion, but then again, he didn't remember magical exhaustion lasting this long. Privately he thought that the crossing of worlds must have screwed up his body's notion of time, which may be why he was taking longer to recover.

"Names, names," Fai was muttering as they reached the counter. There was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes and he looked to be ready to do something drastic.

"Need help there, mate?" A voice interrupted from behind, and they all turned around.

For a moment, Harry forgot to breathe.

Because, standing in front of him, was Ron Weasley.

But the very next moment, he found himself pushing the imposter against the wall, aches forgotten, his hand clenching imposter Ron's throat threateningly. There were shouts of alarm and screams around them, and Kurogane was attempting to drag him away, but Harry would have none of it.

"Give me a reason, any reason, not to kill you where you stand," he snarled, his voice taking on the hissing quality of Parseltongue. Judging from the way the imposter paled, he made for a terrifying sight.

"You are choking him," Kurogane said, forcefully pulling Harry away. Harry, who couldn't compare to Kurogane in terms of brute strength, was dragged a fair distance away from imposter Ron, who was coughing and choking as he touched his sore throat.

"Are you mad?!" Imposter Ron demanded, looking at him disbelievingly.

"He is impersonating someone who I know died," Harry hissed angrily to Kurogane, after the man had shook him repeatedly demanding for an explanation.

"I forgot Yuuko didn't tell you this," Fai approached, blocking his sight of imposter Ron. "Harry, across the different dimensions you might see copies of people you once knew in your dimension. They are not the same person."

"Yeah, now calm down," Kurogane said, and Harry deflated, his anger fading away to give rise to a bone-deep exhaustion. "I'm sorry," he said, projecting his voice so the other Ron could hear him. He looked at the ground, unable to meet the gaze of this copy of his dead best friend. "You look like someone I knew."

"Must have been terrible enemies, then," Ron said jokingly, and Harry knew he was forgiven. It was uncannily like how his Ron would have acted whenever he apologised. "No hard feelings, mate. Just don't hiss at me again. That was one scary sight."

Harry nodded, looking away, reigning in the shame he felt at losing control yet again. He pulled himself out of Kurogane's grasp, and stood to a side as Ron warily approached them again. He shot Harry a small unsure smile, and Harry barely managed to smile weakly back.

"Anyway," Ron was saying to Fai. "I wanted to ask if you needed any help. You looked a bit lost then."

"Thanks but no need!" Fai said cheerily. "I've already got a plan."

"What plan?" Kurogane demanded, wary of the mischeivous glint in Fai's eyes.

"Nothing, nothing," Fai said airily, waving his hand. Kurogane frowned, then, quick as lightning, snatched the papers out of Fai's hand just as he was about to submit it. He shuffled through the papers roughly.

"What the hell is this!" He yelled, uncaring that people were starting to look over at them again.

"Our names, of course!" Fai chirped. "Look," He pointed to a picture of 2 dogs. "That's you, Big Doggy, and Syaoran will be Small Doggy. And," he pulled out another picture of 2 cats with a flourish. "I'm Big Kitty, and Sakura will be Small Kitty. And Harry will be," he pulled out a picture of a frowning man. "the Handler!"

Kurogane tore up the papers into shreds, ignoring Fai's mock protests. "Why is he the Handler!"

"Because he looks the most mature," Fai said mock seriously, nodding to affirm his statement. "You look like a doggy."

Before Kurogane could do something drastic, Ron stepped in, his blue eyes alight with laughter. "I can help you with the names, if you want," he offered.

"Yes, please!" Kurogane snapped loudly, glaring at Fai, who was still grinning.

Ron grinned at their interaction, and collected another form for them. "Right. So your names please, starting with that guy over there."

"Uh, I'm Syaoran," Syaoran said, looking nervously at the 2 men.

"Sakura."

"That guy in black?" Ron asked, smirking.

"Kurogane!" He snapped, looking as if he wanted to glare at Ron for that comment, but thought better of it.

"And I'm Fai," Fai said cheerfully.

"Hmmm..."Ron hummed as he scribbled down some weird symbols they couldn't read. "What about you?" He said, looking up to glance at Harry questioningly.

"Harry," Harry said curtly.

"Okay, done!" Ron said, filling in the last few symbols. He submitted the form to the lady, who accepted it with a smile.

"Thank you," Syaoran said politely, inclining his head.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said. "I'm Ron by the way. Can't believe I forgot to introduce myself."

"Hey Ron!" A group of people called from some distance away. Ron startled and looked up.

"Sorry, I gotta go," Ron said. "See you guys around!" With a final wave, he ran towards the group. Harry thought they looked rather professional in demeanor.

"Are you alright?" Syaoran asked him quietly as he watched Ron go.

"Yeah," he murmured, ignoring the lump in his throat as he watched his best friend go. "I'm fine."

 

End Chapter 6

_**But we are a team, right?** _


	7. Of Illusions and Magic

"Can all wizards cook?" Sakura wondered aloud as she watched Fai and Harry move around the stove.

Fai grinned, throwing a sideways glance to Harry. Fai was inordinately happy today, Harry thought, just because Harry had finally decided to get out of bed and help them with their little café. "Sure, I guess, it's like brewing potions."

Harry snorted, just as he was putting the finishing touches on his cake. "I was rubbish at potions, actually," he offered, feeling more relaxed than he had for a long time, here in this little kitchen baking as if he had no war to go back to.

"That's interesting," Fai said, raising an eyebrow as he looked up from where he was helping Sakura with her cake mixture. "Generally those who are good at cooking excel in potions."

"In my defence, I had a professor who hated me," Harry shrugged, and placed his completed product on the counter, feeling a twinge of pride. Was this how Mrs. Weasley felt every time she cooked? It was a novel feeling, cooking for people other than the Dursleys.

"You go to a magic school?" Sakura asked, utterly fascinated by the little tidbit of information he had offered. Of all of them, he had been the most tight-lipped about his past. Fai and Kurogane had been silent on the matter of their respective pasts, but that did not stop them from offering interesting bits of information about their worlds.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but he was in a surprisingly good mood (better than usual, at least), and decided to oblige her implied request for more information. "Sure. Every magical child, when they turn eleven, receive a letter from Hogwarts, that's the name of my school by the way. We receive a seven-year education, where we learn all about magic and how to wield it." It sounded extraordinarily dull, the way he put it, but it had only been a year since the Battle of Hogwarts, and it was difficult, for him to think about the castle without thinking about the fire, of Albus, of the crumbling towers. He shook his head, realising that he had fallen silent.

To their credit, Sakura and Fai had noticed the sudden darkening of his mood, and allowed him his moment of privacy as they went back to their baking. Fai turned on the radio, allowing soothing music to wash over them and ease his dark thoughts. He closed his eyes, and retreated from the kitchen, making hasty excuses about being tired and needing some rest.

He really should stop the brooding, he thought, as he slipped into his room and locked the door behind him. He let out a sigh, and slid down against the wooden door. He had brooded for days, ever since the encounter with Ron. If Hermione was here, she would have slapped him out of it.

"Don't think about her," he berated himself, but it was too late. He was shaking slightly as the memory of Hermione's death washed over him, the way her body had exploded when the spell hit, how her last expression had been of eternal surprise, how her headless body had twitched grotesquely in a parody of life after falling to the ground. Where was her body now? He hoped Filius had doubled back to destroy the town, after Harry had failed. Harry regretted that he never had the chance to bury his best friend personally. He had failed with Ron, the redhead's body lost or destroyed, and now with Hermione too. He wondered if they would blame him, and sighed.

He fisted his hands in his hair, frustrated at himself, at the situation he was in. He wished the Order was here. Hell, he wished a Deatheater, any Deatheater, was here, for him to take his frustration out on.

"Fuck you, Ron," he hissed, channeling his anger onto the oblivious redhead they had met days ago. He never expected seeing his best friend again, at least not while he was still alive. Seeing him brought back a fresh wave of anger and betrayal that he had long since buried, something he didn't need right now.

He swallowed his anger, and it simmered below the surface, ready to erupt at a moment's notice. Faint laughs and off-key singing drifted from downstairs, and he bit his lip. He needed out, now. He couldn't stay in this house, where everyone was so happy, as if there was no war, no fighting; this ridiculous façade of normalcy suffocated him.

He leaned against the railings that lined the reservoir, staring quietly into the dark waters. Around him people bustled about, going through their day with a carefree aplomb that the wizards and witches of Diagon Alley had before the war started up.

Kurogane and Syaoran were off somewhere, trying to dig up more information on the world they had landed themselves in. Sakura and Fai would have noticed his absence by now; he had sneaked off while they were cheerfully baking in the kitchen, singing off-tune to an upbeat song playing over the radio. He could explain later that he sneaked off because of boredom, because he was craving fresh air after being cooped up for so long. Sakura might believe it, maybe Fai would too, if he spun it well. It didn't really matter, honestly.

Ron wouldn't have believed it, he thought, and regretted it immediately. He had tried hard to let the brief meeting fade from his memory, but it stuck stubbornly at the forefront of his mind, bringing back memories and emotions he had long shoved away into the darkest corners of his mind.

Harry shook his head slightly, to clear it of the sentimental. Inaction had never really suited him well.

His gaze unwittingly strayed to his right hand, where the solution to his magical exhaustion laid. He had been storing bits of his magical energy for a long time, and doubtlessly had built up a huge reservoir by now. Not for the first time he wondered if Albus had meant it to be a tool to help him end the war. The old professor had never really said. Never really had the time to say. Their last moments together had been cut short, and Albus had only the time to slip the ring off his gnarled and blackened hand and shove it into Harry's palm. Had it not been for Hermione, Harry doubted he would ever find out about the energy-storing properties of the ring, which he suspected was the reason Albus had bestowed it upon him.

His other hand was drifting dangerously close to the ring, concealed so well under complex spells that it was beyond perception. Sometimes he forgot it was there. Other times, he thought of tearing it off and throwing it away as a final 'Fuck you' to the man who manipulated his entire life and then died before he was ready to face the Dark Lord.

He resisted the urge every single time. History aside, the ring was a precious tool. This time, his hand drifted inches away from the ring before dropping. An accomplishment. He had only managed to resist the temptation much later the last time. The rust on the railings flaked off with the harsh motion, clinging to his fingers stubbornly.

His stomach lurched at the metallic smell, which reminded him awfully of blood. Pushing himself away from the railings impatiently, he became aware of the darkening sky. Time had slipped through his fingers again. For a moment it reignited a spark of old fury, but then it faded away to tiredness. Tired. He had been feeling tired these few days, something he easily attributed to his magical exhaustion when anyone asked. It didn't matter that it was another one of the many lies he spun to the group; he was used to being alone, and group dynamics and interaction annoyed him. Sometimes it annoyed him how innocent Sakura and Syaoran was, how Fai could expertly hide behind laughter, how Kurogane could take him apart with a single analysing glance. Their concern irritated him sometimes. They didn't understand, not really, and it sickened him that they wanted to try. He hadn't been part of a group in a very long time, ever since the days of the 'Golden Trio', and that was alright. Those days belonged in the happier times of the past, not in these times, when two-thirds of the Trio were dead - one died chasing after fairytales and the other after a future that might never come to be - and the remaining one twisted beyond recognition.

"It's good that you are dead," he whispered. He talked to them sometimes, a remnant from his Gryffindor days where he could still be sentimental and wistful, believing that the dead watched over him. "Beats being in this twisted world." It must be a real party up there, he mused cynically. Half the wizarding world was dead, and probably waiting for the other half to join them. "Fucking prophecy." If it hadn't been for Trelawny...

His instincts flared and he spun away from the railings, even before he understood what was happening. A dark limb smashed into where he was standing less than a second ago and he backtracked immediately, instinctively looking up to find the threat. His eyes narrowed. The demon that had attacked him was only one of the massive group that stood in front of him now, strategically surrounding a dark-haired figure who sat nonchalantly on a branch of a huge tree, the foliage conveniently shadowing his features. The demon charged and he was forced to roll to the side to avoid the rapid punches, which left gaping holes in the concrete pavement.

"I'm not a demon hunter," he said, scrambling back from the enthusiastic demon and speaking directly to the leader of the group. There was a time when he would have fought back solely on the principle that they attacked him first, but he was suffering from magical exhaustion, emotionally drained, and not in the mood for a fight right now.

No response, but he hadn't been expecting any. He withdrew a knife, lips barely moving as he whispered an incantation. The demons were surrounding him now. They lashed out from all sides and he grunted, pausing in his incantation as he tried to dodge a dark shadow cutting through the air towards him. He took a split second to aim, and then the knife was off, moving through the air at speeds that could only be accomplished with magic. Before he could see if it had hit his intended target, the demon in front of him opened its massive mouth, and he barely put up a shield in time as a pillar of flame roared towards him.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, borrowing one of Ron's favorite curses as the shield wavered under the onslaught. He  _pushed_ , and the flames flared back onto its castor, burning it to nothingness. It was a minor victory, however, for as soon as the first demon was gone it was quickly replaced by two more demons.

He was panting heavily by now, even as he scrambled further back in a vain attempt to put some distance between them. His mind was sharp with clarity, already evaluating potential escape routes and plans, knowing that there was no chance in hell that he would survive if he stayed. Apparition would kill him; it had been too much of a risk the other time, and he wouldn't have done it in his right mind. But then another dark tendril shot out, too quick for him to dodge, and he was slammed into the wall, groaning.

The singular eye of the demon that approached him now was oddly appraising, and behind it a wall of demons had formed, preventing any escape attempts. Harry got up slowly, ignoring the shudders that wracked his body as he placed pressure on broken bones and pulled muscles. Did he dare?

Yes, yes, he did.

"Why would you attack me, a mere civilian?" He asked, bravely looking away from the demon mere feet away and directing his question to the figure behind.

"You are no civilian," the man responded, voice cool. Harry recognized it to be the signal that their conversation was closed, that he was to die now, but the precious few seconds granted was enough.

"You better be watching over me, old man," he whispered, forcing all his doubts away as he focused on the one spell he had never tried before wandless, the one spell that could save his life now. An image of Albus Dumbledore, standing weakly on his feet as he raised his wand against the thousands of Inferi surrounding them, appeared beside him, and the figure of his mentor strengthened his conviction. He raised his hand just as Albus did, and then the world was pure fire. He kept his eyes fixed on his mentor, who now stood beside him, their hands moving in perfect synchronisation. Fire poured out of his bare hands, and he bathed the world in fire.

_"I'm not worried, Harry, I'm with you,"_ the echo of the past washed over him, over the shrieks of the demons and screams he could not be bothered to identify.

"Yes, you are with me," he might have said, eyes blurring with tears and the smoke of the firestorm that raged around him. The figure disappeared, and with it Harry collapsed, the flames lowering into a protective ring of fire around him.

The demons were gone. Around him was smoke and fire, and a barren landscape of nothingness. If he squinted, he could have sworn he saw the dead figure of his best friend running towards him, shouting anxiously. He managed to choke out a slightly hysterical laugh, and closed his eyes.

* * *

 

"Am I dead?" were the first words that escaped his mouth when he opened his eyes to see his dead best friend before him. Then he coughed violently - his throat felt terribly dry - and Ron pushed a straw to his lips for him to sip some water.

"You would have been, if I had arrived any later," Ron said dryly, his eyes looking haunted for a second before he looked away.

Harry paused in confusion, his mouth agape, before the knowledge rushed into his brain so quickly he had to close his eyes. This wasn't his Ron, just a copy. Disappointment overwhelmed him for a moment, before it was swept away by a rush of self-loathing. Did he want to die?

"Thanks," he finally rasped out, after the silence dragged too long between them and he realized he probably owed the man some gratitude. He swept his eyes through the room he was in quickly, hating that it took him so long to check his surroundings. This wasn't his Ron, Ron was dead and Harry had no business trusting someone just because they looked alike. "Where are we?"

"My home." The man hesitated, and Harry recognized the look as one who was about to give very bad news. "I wanted to bring you to the café your friends own, but...you weren't the demons' only target."

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded, shooting out of bed and clenching his hand around the front of Ron's shirt, who startled at the sudden movement.

"Bloody hell, get back on the bed," Ron snapped, pushing him back onto the bed. "You are still injured."

"I'm fine," Harry said impatiently. It was true - the great pool of magic from the ring he had dipped into had rejuvenated him, and healed his injuries. There was only a lingering soreness from the previous night, and regret that he had to use the stored magic at all. "Don't change the topic. Tell me what happened to them."

"The blonde one - Fai, I think? - is dead." The news was like a punch to the gut, and Harry paled. "The two demon hunters in your group are missing. I'm not sure, I couldn't find them."

"Sakura?" Harry asked, dread pooling in his stomach.

"I don't know," Ron said quietly. "Most of what I know is from the newspaper. The city is going crazy over the news that the demons have started attacking civilians."

"Fuck," Harry gritted his teeth and tugged at his hair angrily as he focused his gaze on the blankets. Fai was down, the other three unknown. If he had been there... he tasted bile in the back of his throat as self-loathing overwhelmed him. He hadn't been able to protect them, just like how he failed with Ron and Hermione and Albus and so many others in the war...

He shoved down the part of him that wanted to break down again, and steeled himself, using icy anger to sharpen his thoughts and fuel him to keep going.

He was halfway out of the door before he knew it, and only Ron's startled "Wait, where are you going?" brought him back to the present. He paused only for a second, and turned to face Not-Ron. "I'm going to the café. Thanks for bringing me back here."

"I'm going with you." A familiar determined scowl had settled itself firmly on Ron's face, and Harry looked away from him.

"Whatever."

His mind filled with a sharp clarity as they set off at a frantic run towards the café. Adrenaline pumped through him, allowing him to shove away the swirling mix of guilt and self-loathing lying heavily on his chest to focus on the present. The streets were deserted - no civilian dared to be outside in such dangerous times. It was all the better for Harry, who jumped across railings and other obstacles with little care, his magic instinctively pushing him to run faster.

Had it really only been hours since he had laughed with them in that cozy little kitchen?

He skidded to a stop suddenly, watching the wreckage in front of him with distant eyes. The pain was sharp, unexpected, and he pulled up what little skill he had in Occlumency to dull the pain, a method he commonly employed whenever faced with his failure and death, when he had to steel himself and go on despite numerous losses. Ron came to an abrupt stop behind him, panting heavily.

"Bloody hell," he heard his friend whisper, and clenched his fists. Every step he took felt heavy, as if he was walking through sludge.

The area was cordoned off, but he easily slipped under the red tape, and pushed open the door to the café.

It didn't make sense. Fai had impressive skills, be it physical or magical, and Harry knew his judgement could not have been wrong. He had been on the battlefield for years, years of fighting alongside and against both strangers and people he knew. He was good at evaluating and judging the threat level of any person, and Fai had been dangerous.

He swept his gaze around the room, keen eyes picking up small details with an ease that spoke of long practice. Behind him, Ron was quiet, for which Harry was grateful. He needed to think now, with no distractions in the way.

No blood. That was the first anomaly that screamed at Harry. How was that possible? Even if Fai had been caught unaware (which Harry severely doubted), short of the killing curse, there was no way that he had been killed without any bloodshed, especially considering the mage's rather impressive skill set.

"Where is the body?" He asked, his voice low and tense, running his hands across the cracked counter.

"No body," Ron said, and there was an odd inflection to his voice. Harry, busy feeling for a magical signature, missed it, and merely nodded in response. Magic had not been used. He felt slightly unsettled at the thought, and sat down on a stool, burying his head in his hands to think. Why had Fai not used any magic? He remembered Fai's reluctance to use magic at all, but he knew the man's desire to stay alive was greater than his reluctance to use magic. There was no explanation for the lack of magic used, unless-

Unless Fai had been taken off guard.

Harry sighed, and rose from his stool fluidly. His instincts had saved him last night against the demons, and it was difficult to believe that Fai's instincts would be in any way inferior to his. His mind was racing with thoughts, trying to connect the dots and discarding the more preposterous theories. It was entirely possible that Fai had, for some reason, underestimated the enemy. Not because of inferior instincts, no, Harry could have almost  _tasted_ the pure danger the man gave off last night, and even Sakura, the only non-fighter in their group, would have been hard-pressed not to notice.

Fai  _recognised_  the man.

Harry closed his eyes, tried to reconstruct the scene in his head, of Fai standing up to greet the man, Sakura perhaps pushed to a side with Mokona to protect her. He tried to put himself in Fai's shoes, to think of how he would react in that situation. He would have protected the non-combatant - but no, Fai had not cast any protective magicks - or distracted the enemy's attention. Yes, Harry could see Fai doing that, could see the man purposely distract the stranger. He might have been reluctant to start any violence for fear of hurting Sakura, giving the enemy a chance to strike first. One strike, that must have been it, the one strike which Fai had not been ready for and which killed him immediately.

But it was pure speculation on his part, and many things did not add up. Where was Sakura, Syaoran and Kurogane? More importantly, where was Fai's body?

An unpleasant, but entirely plausible, explanation was that Fai and Sakura were dead, and Syaoran and Kurogane thought him to be dead as well. And if the two demon hunters were still alive, they would be hunting this man ferociously, driven by guilt and the thirst for revenge.

_And I will be there to help them kill this man,_ he promised himself, consoling the mix of agony and anger in his chest with thoughts of revenge.

"Why would they start targeting you guys?" Ron wondered quietly and Harry startled, having forgotten the other man's presence.

"Maybe he wanted to draw us out," Harry said simply. He suspected more - that the man had been looking for Sakura's feathers as well and decided to eliminate the competition. It was the only thing that made their group stand out from the other inhabitants of this world - their quest.

Ron shot him a look he could not decipher, but shrugged it off. "If that is what you say," He said nonchalantly. Harry stifled a smile; Ron was the strategy master, and could obviously see right through his lies. But Harry never shared his theories without evidence to back them up, at least he hadn't once he had grown up and witnessed people die for his half-baked plans.

They made their way out of the cafe silently, slipping under the red tape again. Ron was a calming presence beside him, allowing him to stew in his own thoughts as they walked. He had missed that about him. Hermione would have been less inclined to stay silent, and more inclined to interrogate him for his thoughts for her to confirm her own theories about what was going on.

"You should get a sword," Ron said suddenly, and Harry shot him a bemused look. "You need weapons to defend yourself, if you get attacked by demons again. I know, I know," he said, when Harry opened his mouth to interrupt. "I saw you defend yourself with those flames. Impressive trick, that, but if it gets you collapsing to the floor every time you use it..."

"I'm not completely defenseless without those flames," Harry said, though he had to admit that there was truth to Ron's words. He had his knives, though if he ever lost the ability to summon them back during battle, he would be completely weaponless after throwing them. "Besides, I don't really favor swords. They are mostly for short-range fighting, which can be a handicap. I tend to prefer long-range fighting." In the Wizarding World, unless you were Godric Gryffindor reincarnated, no one used swords to fight. You could be disarmed even before you took a swing, and killed before you even got close enough to the enemy to strike. Magic was faster, more efficient. Daggers could be used to both kill a close-range enemy, and close the distance between you and the enemy, which was why he favored them over any other kinds of weaponry. In fact, ever since second year when he had drunkenly waved a sword at a huge basilisk, he had only ever used the sword to destroy the horcruxes, since it had been imbued with Basilisk poison. Beyond that, Harry had no interest in learning a skill which he could not see any benefits to.

"If you trained, you can do long-range attacks with a sword too," Ron said, unperturbed by his refusal. "It's not as if it'll be your only weapon. You can use it simultaneously with your flames. The flames obviously take a lot of you, and it's better to have something else to depend on so you don't have to resort to it all the time."

"I don't have money," Harry said bluntly. He still disagreed with Ron about the sword, but there was no point in prolonging this discussion, and he wanted to kill it immediately.

"And I'll pay for you," Ron rebutted easily. "You can pay me back later, alright?" He said when Harry looked to be ready to protest.

"Why?" Harry demanded. "Why are you so insistent?"

"If there is someone coming after you, you need to able to defend yourself," Ron pointed out, still infuriatingly calm, as if he was used to dealing with such displays of impatience. He hesitated, when Harry looked at him in challenge, well aware that there was more to it that he wasn't being told. Finally, he admitted, "That, and I was hoping to form a Demon Hunting team with you. My teammates are all gone, and you are a very competent fighter."

Harry felt rage bubble up in his chest. "And you never thought to ask?" He snarled.

Ron looked startled at the strong reaction. "I wanted to give you some space...I thought to ask later."

"Later, after I have taken your money and became indebted to you?" Harry said lowly, his face as hard as stone.

Ron spluttered. "No-what the hell- I never thought of it that way-"

Harry sneered at the pale redhead. "I hate being manipulated, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and you would do well to remember that." Then he stalked away, well aware that he needed to get his temper under control before he did something he regretted.

Ron followed him, clearly intent on protesting his innocence. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and took deep breaths to calm himself. "Ron, please give me a moment alone or I  _will_ curse you into a puddle on the floor." He heard a muffled snort from behind him and turned around. "You think I'm joking?"

"No," Ron managed, his eyes alight with amusement. "I know you are serious. Your threats need work, though."

If only you knew, Harry thought darkly.

"I'm really sorry, mate," Ron continued, sobering. "I didn't mean it in that way. I am sincere about that sword, though. But you honestly are under no obligation to help me, no matter what."

Harry almost snorted, but stopped himself in time. If only Ron knew... Harry would always be obliged to help him, if only because he wore the face of the man who stood right by him for more than a decade, in peace and in war. He stared into the eyes of his dead best friend, and felt himself capitulate. "Fine, whatever," Harry shrugged. "If you insist." He didn't need nor want a sword, but if Ron insisted, he would get it, if only to please him.

"Brilliant!" Ron crowed, and his enthusiasm almost made Harry smile. Ron dragged him into an old store, which Harry would have looked dubiously at if not for his experience with Ollivander's wand store. "This is the best store in the region," Ron declared. "I'm sure there'll be something for you here."

The store owner was an old man, who would have looked like Dumbledore, had it not been for the fact that his eyes were brown instead of twinkling blue, and that his beard was not as long. "Back again, I see," he greeted, which confused Harry for a moment before he realised that the man was talking to Ron.

"I come regularly for him to check my sword, and I came back recently to sell some swords, mostly from my former comrades," Ron explained at Harry's questioning gaze. He looked up to direct his next words to the old man. "I'm here now to help Harry get a sword."

Beady brown eyes focused on Harry, with surprising clarity. "Have you wielded a sword before, young man?"

"Not really," Harry said simply. The vague answer made the old man furrow his brows in irritation, and Harry decided to elaborate. "I wielded a sword once when I was 12, but it was done clumsily and with no training whatsoever."

The old man hummed, peering at Harry intently for a long time. Harry met his gaze evenly, never backing down from those brown eyes. Finally, the old man nodded, and shuffled away into the back room. Harry cast a glance at Ron when the old man went, and Ron only shrugged at the eccentric behavior.

"Here," the old man grunted, having returned from the back room. He thrust a sword at Harry so quickly that the latter flinched back in surprise, before cautiously accepting it. "This indeed suits you."

Harry brought the sword to eye level, admiring it. While he hadn't any idea about swords, he had to admit it looked deadly from a purely aesthetic perspective. If it caught the light just right, Harry could see the blue hue of the blade. The guard of the blade was styled like a pair of angel wings, inlaid with bone.

"Are the wings really necessary?" Harry asked bluntly. While he liked the look of it, practical concerns outweighed aesthetic concerns. He wondered if it would tamper with the balance of the blade or something.

"Shut up, Harry," Ron hissed, and Harry noticed his flushed features, and the way he was darting his gaze towards the store owner, who, despite the blank expression, had a glint of amusement and slight mockery in his brown eyes. Harry fell silent, and wondered if he had said something stupid. He sheathed the sword by his side as Ron paid for it.

"You know, I don't know how to use a sword," Harry remarked as they left the store. "As it is now, this is going to be a burden and not a weapon."

"I can teach you," Ron offered, and Harry shook his head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I really do want to track down the rest of my companions first," Harry admitted, looking up at the darkening sky. He began walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"To the City Hall. There's an Information Office there. And if the rest of them are still alive," he bit down on his worry, "They will go there as well."

"Not to the café?" Ron asked, falling in step beside him.

"No, they think I'm dead. They won't go back there again. They will be looking for revenge, and they need information to do that." Then he paused suddenly, and so did Ron. "You feel that?" Harry said lowly. Ron nodded curtly, and drew his sword. There was a sudden tension to the night, and it was quiet, much too quiet.

Then a scream ripped through the silence, and they whipped around, just in time to see a woman get caught by a demon, screaming hysterically.

"You bastard! Let her go!" Ron roared, and charged.

Harry cursed at Ron's impulsive behavior as demons started approaching from all sides, the first demon throwing aside his earlier victim in view of more excitement. He stumbled back, narrowly dodging a strike.

"Confringo!" He yelled as he slid under a demon. It exploded into black mist, but there was no time to feel victorious, as he was forced to roll out of the way of multiple punches. He rolled into a wall, which forced him to a stop, the implications of which he barely realized before he was screaming the Shield charm, just in time to halt the massive fist that punched into his shield with a resounding 'gong'. He held the shield with his left hand, his right withdrawing a dagger. The dagger met its target, and he sighed as the pressure on his shield vanished.

Then he was rolling to his feet again, blasting the small demons who was clinging on to his feet and impeding his movements. Dodge. Turn. Kick. He was throwing curses wordlessly now, no time to enunciate them. The demons swarmed him - for a long time he could only see black, only fight against blackness - and he barely remembered to summon his daggers back into his hand in between the spells he was throwing out. They kept coming, like a whole mass of black, and it was as if he was fighting against nothingness. Where was Ron? They had been separated from the start- no doubt part of the plan - but he couldn't risk large scale spells while Ron was still somewhere around in the mess of fighting.

He threw a Sectumsempra, following up with a barrage of other deadly curses. They weren't particularly agile, but their strength laid in quantity rather than quality. "Protego Horribilis!" He screamed as he recognized the actions of one of the demons as similar to those he had faced the night before. He had a split-second to curse when what came out was not a mere stream of fire, but a goddamn inferno which was blasted at him. The conflagration enveloped him, and he thought he heard someone scream his name, but he swept his hand and cast the Flame-Freezing charm. His skin stopped bubbling with heat and a peculiar tickling sensation replaced the white-hot pain.

His hand was moving again- he steeled himself- and then a wave of water erupted from his palm, forcing back the fire. He grunted, and pushed with all his might, his feet sliding back on the pavement as he desperately tried to stand upright. The column of water forced back the firestorm, but his feet was sliding back, and he gasped at the sheer amount of magic he was channeling without a wand. A great hissing sound filled the air as steam rose from the point where fire and water met, and the world blurred. His hands shook with the effort of holding the fire away, and it was impossible for him to reach for his daggers. Too much power. Both his hands were outstretched, glowing with magic, but he was going to give way soon. His mouth had gone dry and he bit his lip so hard it bled.

"Harry!"

His vision was blurry - from steam or exhaustion he wasn't quite sure - but he could vaguely identify Kurogane's voice. The man was alive. Relief coursed through him and he somehow found the strength to straighten. He closed his eyes, reached for all the magic he had, and forced it into his palms with a strangled scream-

Then the night was clear again. The steam faded, and he swayed slightly. There was a significant space between him and the remaining demons - he stood in a small clearing empty of demons - and he could finally make out Ron, slaying demons like he was possessed; Kurogane, who was standing on the rooftop of a building, sword in hand, confronting the leader of the demons.

His eyes turned back to Ron, just in time to see a demon surge forward, taking advantage of Ron's distraction with the smaller demons. Time slowed; Harry opened his mouth in horror, ready to run forward. Then everything happened in fast motion - Ron was suddenly impaled on a dark limb, his mouth opened in shock.

Everything was happening so quickly, and Harry couldn't react in time. By the time he managed to get the strangled scream out from his throat, his body moving without his control as he threw himself forward, Ron tilted his head to the side, blue eyes meeting anguished green as he disappeared.

"RON!" He screamed, unwilling to believe that he had lost his best friend again, he had failed him again, Ron was dead-

Then his surroundings were unraveling, fading, and then everything was gone, no Ron, no demons- Harry stumbled, disorientated, then his eyes fell upon the man, the man responsible for killing Fai, Sakura, Syaoran,  _Ron._ Rage blazed anew - disorientation fell away in the wake of a new target - and it rejuvenated him. His hand brushed against the sword Ron had gotten him, and emerald eyes hardened.

"Ascendio!" He was flying through the air, closer and closer to the man, and he landed gracefully on the wrecked Ferris Wheel, beside Kurogane who was looking flummoxed at the change in location.

The man was looking at him with assessing eyes, though his expression was carefully blank. Harry's expression was eerily calm, his anger having taken an icy edge with his decision that he would murder this man, take revenge for the people he had killed.

Harry didn't waste his time with words. He drew his hand back, and it glowed with pure power. Then everything exploded into motion; a barrage of curses were thrown at the man while Harry swept his daggers into the air, motioning them forward with a wave. Harry looked at the man, who was watching the curses and knives speed towards him calmly, and thought of Albus. He raised his hands, imagined Albus with him, and released a firestorm more terrifying than the one he had conjured the night before. This time, he had his rage and grief, which steadied him, made him push his magic with greater ferocity than he had dared that night. Kurogane was beside him, shouting something, but Harry didn't care. The wall of fire surrounded them, rushed towards the man to consume him-

There was a great creaking sound, and they were suddenly falling. The fire roared, consuming everything in sight, and the Ferris Wheel broke apart. His heart jumped to his mouth at the sudden plummeting sensation, but instinctively raised his hand - "Ascendio!"- and he was flying again, landing haphazardly on the top of the 'Haunted House'. He scrambled to his feet, eyes fixed on the mess of smoke and screams and fire. A rip appeared in the middle of the smoke, and the fire and smoke were sucked in like a huge vacuüm, leaving the man floating in midair, cupping something in his hands and a small smirk on his face.

He suddenly thought of his only surviving teammate, and wrenched his hand back in a violent pulling motion, terrified that he had been too late. "Accio Kurogane!" He yelled, and held his breath until the man came flying, landing beside him in a heap, breathing heavily.

"Could you be more careful next time?" Kurogane snarled, and Harry winced as he took in his disheveled state.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, but now that he knew Kurogane was safe, he refocused on the man, who landed on a heap of debris gracefully. The man was powerful. It was no mean feat, to dispel his curses and daggers, and his firestorm - one of the strongest spells in a wizard's arsenal - simultaneously, and not look even slightly winded. No matter, Harry knew he was capable of much more.

"You would battle without the slightest care for civilians," the man remarked, his voice cold.

Harry barked out a harsh laugh. "And there is the pot calling the kettle black." He had been unaware of the civilians, and now that he looked, he was aware of a huge crowd of people below, screaming and trying to get as far as possible from the battle.

"Kurogane! Harry!" The familiar voice made his heart stop, and he turned, to see the impossible - Fai, Sakura, Syaoran  _alive._

"You're alive!" Kurogane breathed, echoing Harry's thoughts. "What is going on?" He demanded.

"So Ron-" Harry choked. "He is alive too?" But he had seen the man impaled before his very eyes, had seen him disappear -

_Disappear_. But no one disappeared upon death, leaving no body -or blood, Harry recalled, the pieces of the puzzle coming together- so it must not have been true death.

"Virtual reality," Harry uttered out loud, everything falling into place.

The man smirked sardonically. "Very smart." And Harry heard a harsh intake of breath from beside him as the man opened his fists, revealing Sakura's feather.

"What do you want, Seishirou?" Kurogane stepped forward. The anger had melted away from Harry, leaving him weak and boneless with relief.

Seishirou met Harry's gaze firmly. "Is your real name...Subaru?"

Harry frowned at the unexpected question, meeting his gaze straight on. "No, it's not."

"Are you the I-1 demon?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "I only just found out I was in a virtual reality, how could I be?" Then he frowned. "Why did you suspect me? I'm not even a demon hunter."

Seishirou was about to answer when a huge demon roared out of the ground, looming over them threateningly. Kurogane had turned towards the new threat immediately, his body tense with the anticipation of a fight. Then the wings of the demon spread apart, covering the afternoon sun and enveloping them in partial darkness, and revealing a woman standing on the demon's hands. "The person you are looking for would be me," she said calmly.

("Hey! That's the singer at CLOVER!" Kurogane exclaimed.)

Seishirou's attention was immediately hooked, and he turned his gaze to the newcomer.

"I never thought I would have to show myself like this, either," Oruha continued, obviously having heard Kurogane's shocked remark. "But it can't be helped." She cast a glance towards Fai and Kurogane, before fixing her calm gaze on Seishirou. "When these powerful demon hunters came to me for information, they talked about you. That's how I realized it."

"Wait, so all the information you gave us..." Fai trailed off.

"It wasn't a lie, not all of it," she smiled pleasantly. "In order to make the game interesting, giving out false information is one of the most important factors."

"So you are a player," Seishirou said, tilting his head to a side almost innocently.

"Correct."

"Does your real appearance look like how you look now?"

"No."

"Have you heard about the idea of 'granting eternal life'?"

"Yes."

Seishirou smiled then, a satisfied edge to his smile, and pushed his glasses up. "Well then, I suppose there is no point beating about the bushes. Is your real name Subaru?"

"No, it's not."

Seishirou frowned slightly. "Do you know anything about the vampire twins?"

"I don't know." Then she sighed, obviously having figured out the misunderstanding between them. "I'm the one who created the Fairy Park System. 'Granting eternal life' means, the one who can defeat me, the most powerful demon, will be granted invincibility in Outo. It means the winner is granted, by the creator of the game, power of being unkillable under all circumstances. It doesn't have anything to do with the vampire legend."

"I got it wrong again." Seishirou smiled, though it was slightly bitter this time, and he looked away from her.

"I apologise for not being able to help you more, but,' Oruha moved her hands in a sweeping gesture to show the utter chaos in the park. "this situation is quite inconvenient, isn't it?"

He apparently caught her meaning, and looked down at the feather in his hands. "This thing causes the game world to become a reality. Although I'm unable to control it fully, if this disappears, its influence should disappear as well." Harry caught a hint of an indecipherable emotion flit through his face. "And if those two aren't here, there's no point in me staying any longer."

"Wait!" Harry blurted out just as Seishirou turned. The man turned to him, his face carefully neutral once more. "That feather-"

"It's something I'm looking for," Syaoran spoke, cutting Harry off. He had climbed up the piles of debris and made his way to Seishirou while they had been busy.

"It does not belong to you," Seishirou said evenly.

"It belongs to someone important to me." Syaoran's expression was grim, and he had unconsciously settled into a fighting stance. If Seishirou noticed, he merely smiled, slightly patronisingly, at the teen attempting to challenge him. "Please return it to me."

"Would you fight me for it?" Seishirou asked lazily, unconcerned.

"I don't want to fight you," Syaoran began, and his emotional turmoil showed in his eyes. "I fought you in Outo, and I know I can't beat you. But," He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, the turmoil in them were gone, replaced by a steely determination. "I won't give that feather up without a fight." He drew his sword, and a burst of flame erupted around him, making his eyes glow almost eerily.

"He won't win," Harry said grimly, as they began circling each other. "Should we help?" He was strangely exhausted, now that his anger had been snuffed out, but he was prepared to fight.

"It's his battle," Kurogane merely said calmly beside him. Harry chanced a skeptical glance at the man, seeing him sheathe his sword.

They watched quietly as Syaoran lunged at the man, and both figures were enveloped in white-hot flames. Even as some civilians gasped, their trained eyes had caught the movement that told of Seishirou's escape. Syaoran was clearly out of his league, having just started learning how to wield a sword, even if his grim determination made him a challenging opponent.

"I won't stand by and watch him lose," Harry said, before he threw a stunning spell at Seishirou's unprotected back. Seishirou whipped around, barely dodging both the spell and Syaoran's strike, and his eyes were alight with anger.

"It's not your battle," he said, and his smile was brittle.

Harry shrugged, and unleashed an enormous fire dragon, just as Syaoran slashed his sword now, unleashing a column of fire. The two fire attacks met with a loud explosion in the middle, where Seishirou stood, and the screams started up again as the remaining structure of the Ferris Wheel tilted with an ominous sounding creak.

Harry and Syaoran watched with horrified eyes as the broken half of the wheel rolled down towards the remaining civilians with gathering speed. Time slowed, and Harry frantically dug into the dregs of his remaining magic reserves.

"ACCIO!" Harry screamed the first spell that came to mind. He swept away all other thoughts - concentration was key - and focused. He  _wanted_ it to come to him, he  _needed_ it, and he _would have it-_

The great piece of debris was barreling towards him, so quickly that he knew he would never be able to dodge in time. He felt boneless and weak, and crumpled to his knees. He knelt, and watched it fly towards him. There was regret, that he would die here, but overall relief that the spell had  _worked._

There was a flash of movement beside him, and he barely had the time to feel horror as he realized that Kurogane was right beside him. Then Kurogane was in front of him, sword drawn, Harry opened his mouth - would he have time to cast a Protego? - and his vision went dark.

When he could see again - everything was slightly blurry and he felt kind of dizzy - he had suddenly become a spectator, watching Kurogane and the debris coming ever closer, and then there was a spectacular explosion. He panicked and might have screamed, but his throat was dry with horror, and everything was grey.

It felt like an eternity of grey and blurs, but then the dust finally cleared, and Harry sagged in relief when he saw Kurogane, sword out, standing impressively in a crater, the broken piece of wheel obliterated into dust that hovered around the man.

Kurogane turned his gaze to where he was standing - was that gratitude he saw in his eyes? - and Harry was puzzled until he realized that the gaze was directed to someone beside him. Now that the edge of panic and adrenaline was wearing off, he noticed the strong arms wrapped around him and the body next to him. He looked up, and saw Seishirou.

Seishirou was looking as calm as ever, and he allowed Harry to tear himself away from his grip.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his disorientation - had Seishirou saved him? - when he felt a flare of magic. He raised his head, and saw Seishirou standing in the middle of a magic circle, his feather in hand. The man was staring at him with an oddly appraising look, then he looked away to meet Syaoran's shocked gaze. "You are strong, Syaoran, and you will only become stronger. If you are searching for this," his gaze flicked to the feather in his hand briefly, "we should be able to meet again." He turned his gaze to Kurogane, and nodded to him, who nodded back slightly. The magic rose and surrounded him. "Until we meet again." And his eyes met Harry's, for a split-second, then he was gone.

 

End Chapter 7

_**"I won't stand by and watch him lose."** _


	8. Interlude - In Protection

June 2, 1997

Astronomy Tower  
Hogwarts

_The Dark Mark was glittering directly above the Astronomy Tower, the highest of the castle. Did that mean the death had occurred there?_

_Dumbledore had already crossed the crenellated ramparts and was dismounting; Harry landed next to him seconds later and looked around. The ramparts were deserted. The door to the spiral staircase that led back to the castle was closed. There was no sign of a struggle, of a fight to the death, of a body._

_Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, but his hand had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when he heard running footsteps on the other side. He looked round at Dumbledore, who gestured to him to retreat. Harry backed away, drawing his wand as he did so._

_The door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted "Expelliarmus!"_

_Harry's body became instantly rigid and immobile, and he felt himself fall back against the Tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak. He could not understand how it had happened - Expelliarmus was not a Freezing Charm -_

_Then, by the light of the Mark, he saw Dumbledore's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and understood...Dumbledore had wordlessly immobilised Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself._

_Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no signs of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, "Good evening, Draco."_

_Malfoy stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone. His eyes fell upon the second broom. "Who else is here?"_

_"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"_

_Harry saw Malfoy's pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish glare of the Mark. He looked pale, like all the blood had been drained from his face, and his lips were pinched. At Dumbledore's words, a wild look had appeared in his eyes, and for a second, he looked both maniacal and desperate._

_"They will be coming. I-I've got a job to do. Then they can come through and I-" He snapped his mouth shut, as if aware that he was rambling. He took deep, heavy breaths, and swayed slightly as if he was going to faint._

_"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," said Dumbledore softly._

_There was silence. Harry stood, imprisoned within his own invisible, paralysed body, staring at the two of them, and in front of him, Draco Malfoy did nothing but stare at Albus Dumbledore, who, incredibly, smiled._

_"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."_

_"How do you know?" said Malfoy at once. He seemed to realise how childish the words had sounded. Harry saw him flush in the Mark's greenish light. "You don't what I'm capable of," said Malfoy more forcefully, "you don't know what I've done!"_

_"Oh yes, I do," said Dumbledore mildly. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts...so feeble, to be honest, that i wonder whether your heart has been really in it."_

_"It has been in it!" said Malfoy vehemently. "I've been working on it all year, I'll kill you tonight." But his wand hand was shaking as he said it._

_"You have had several long minutes now. We are quite alone. I am more defenceless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted..."_

_Malfoy's mouth contorted involuntarily, as though he had tasted something very bitter._

_"There is little time, on way or another," Dumbledore went on, "So let us discuss your options, Draco."_

_"My options!" said Malfoy loudly. "I'm standing here with a wand - I'm about to kill you -"_

_"My dear boy, let_  us _have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."_

_"I haven't got any options!" said Malfoy, and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family! The Death Eaters, they were supposed to come through, then the whole Vanishing Cabinet just fell apart- Something went wrong, a sword just appeared and I-" Malfoy was half hysterical, his wand shaking badly, "He's going to kill me, I've got no choice."_

_Harry could see Dumbledore relax a fraction at the revelation that there were no Death Eaters roaming around the castle. "Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...when the time comes we can protect him too...come over to the right side, Draco...you are not a killer..."_

_Malfoy stared at Dumbledore. "But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here...and you're in my power...I'm the one with the wand...you're at my mercy..."_

_"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly. "It's my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."_

_Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling. His wand clattered uselessly to the ground, and he sank to the floor. *_

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Syaoran started; he hadn't expected the sudden question coming from the motionless figure in the middle of the room. "Sorry," he said instinctively. "I came down for a cup of water." He gestured to the glass in his hands. Then, unable to restrain himself, "What are you doing? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to-"

Harry snorted, cutting off his words. "Meditating," he said shortly. Syaoran thought that anyone else might have looked ridiculous, sitting motionless between what they had been told was called a 'television' and the homely couch, eyes closed and features slack. But Harry tended to carry himself with a natural confidence and grace that offset what would seem ridiculous on anyone else. The man in question unfolded himself easily, his bright green eyes gleaming with an unidentifiable emotion. "I've never actually gotten the hang of sitting around doing nothing for hours, though. Just thought I'll try, my magic's been a little off recently." He said the last part quietly, and Syaoran was unsure if he was meant to hear it.

"You could ask Fai for help," Syaoran suggested. He was sure the older mage would help in whatever way he could, despite his insistence on not using magic. Syaoran gingerly sat down besides the other male on the couch, setting his glass down and resolving to help Harry in any way he could, even if it was only to offer a listening ear.

"Nah, our magicks are too different," Harry said, and Syaoran straightened in interest - it was the first time he was hearing this. Harry caught his sudden interest and his lips twitched slightly. "Different worlds, you know?" Harry said, pointing out something Syaoran realized was rather obvious, in retrospect.

"I guess magic differs between worlds, too," Syaoran said, slightly sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. I suppose to mug-" Harry paused for the briefest for moments, then corrected himself, "non-magic users, I mean, magic is just magic. I don't really understand it fully myself, too. His magic just feels different, I suppose," he shrugged. "But anyway, I do have some idea why my magic's been off."

Syaoran didn't say anything, though his natural curiosity about the unknown was trying to make itself known. Harry, Fai and Kurogane, Syaoran had learnt, were extremely private individuals, and he respected all of them enough to know not to pry. To his surprise, however, Harry didn't stop there. Syaoran had the gut feeling that the wizard subconsciously wanted someone to speak to about all this.

"The Wizarding World separates magic into two broad categories," Harry continued, his gaze fixed on the wall, lost in memories. "Light, Dark, and Grey. Okay, those with a better grasp on magic separates it into three. But to most of the populace, it's just two - Light and Dark. Basically, Light equals good and Dark equals evil." Harry snorted. "It's a load of bull, though. There's no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it." There was something very dark in his gaze when he pronounced those words, and Syaoran repressed a shiver. Then Harry's gaze cleared and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Ironic, that's what the bastard Voldemort taught me. But I'm going off topic.

"Draco Malfoy. He was my archrival for the longest time. But in war, those schoolyard squabbles just don't hold anymore. He couldn't kill my Headmaster, even though he had him at wandpoint. There's a difference between a bully and a murderer, you know? Anyway, he defected over to our side, and I asked him to teach me Dark magic." Harry's face wore a mixed expression of nostalgia, pain and bitter humor. "In return, I taught him Defense against the Dark Arts. My best subject at school." Harry paused for a long while, looking as if he would not continue.

"Why did you choose to learn it? Wasn't it considered evil?" Syaoran asked quietly, still struggling to understand the story Harry was telling, and how it linked to the original topic of his magic being off.

Harry looked down at his lap. His shoulders were tense, and Syaoran could tell it was an extremely sensitive topic for the other man. "There's no good and evil, there's only power, and those too weak to seek it," he repeated, but this time his voice was weary rather than dark. "I needed more power. Voldemort has decades of experience and power beyond me. I was naïve, though. Power comes with a price. Dark magic might not be evil, but it is a lot more chaotic than Light magic. I was dabbling without thinking, and well, my magic was a bit twisted. Once in a while, it goes a little off. Meditating is supposed to help, but, I've never been really good at Occlumency - basically clearing your mind to shield your thoughts from others -" Harry clarified, seeing the confused look on Syaoran's face, "most of the time I just wait till it passes. It's a huge handicap, though. I never know when my magic will strike out and hurt my own side, when it spirals out of control-" Harry suddenly looked horrified, as if he hadn't meant to say the last part out loud. He clamped his mouth shut immediately, and looked steadily at the wall, tensed.

"It's not your fault," Syaoran said fiercely, the words bursting out of him before he had a chance to really think. Harry startled and stared at him, wide-eyed, and Syaoran knew that he had somehow instinctively realized the root of Harry's turmoil and struck at it. "You had good intentions-"

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Harry said bitterly.

"And," Syaoran continued doggedly, "You took power with the intention to protect. Maybe you have to pay the price once in a while, but most of the time the power helps protect the people you love. In the end, you can't protect everyone. But it's war. I haven't actually been in one, but I do know that it's impossible to protect everyone in war. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself." He finished, his breathing a little heavy, and suddenly wondered if he had gone too far.

Harry smiled slightly, and perhaps for the first time, genuinely. He looked away quickly, but Syaoran thought he might have caught a glimpse of tears in the other man's eyes. He shifted awkwardly. "Thanks," Harry finally said quietly, his voice not betraying any emotion. "You...you might be the first one to tell me that," Then he cleared his throat. "Doesn't that mean you can't protect Sakura all the time?" Harry winced the moment the words came out - he had been trying to deflect the attention from him, but he hadn't meant to be so insensitive. "Sorry," He muttered.

"I know I can't protect her all the time," Syaoran said quietly, bowing his head as he admitted his secret fear. "I'll try my hardest, and I'll give my life for her, but..."

"You can't protect everyone," Harry murmured, repeating Syaoran's words back to him. He paused, staring at the slumped figure besides him. "But when you can't," Harry said quietly, looking away steadfastly at the wall. "I'll help you. I'm sure Fai and Kurogane will do the same. We won't let anyone hurt her." He pretended not to notice Syaoran's start and wide eyes, fixing his gaze stubbornly on the wall.

"Thank you," Syaoran said ernestly. Harry gave a jerky nod of his head, starting to feel awkward.

"You know," Harry said, casting around for a topic. "I've always wanted to learn martial arts," he blurted out, wanting to change the topic immediately.

"Oh," Syaoran said, apparently baffled by the random switch in topic. He grinned as he realized what Harry was trying to do. "I can teach you," he offered. "I mean, I'm not as good as Fai or Kurogane, but-"

"That'll be great," Harry abruptly said, clinging on to the new subject. "You want to start now? I mean, unless you are tired, then we can always start tomorrow-"

Syaoran couldn't quite help the laugh that escaped him. "No, it's fine, let's start now. So first, you-"

When Sakura came down a while later, after hearing the noises from the living room when she headed for the bathroom, she panicked when she saw Harry and Syaoran exchanging blows. "Mokona!" She hissed to the white bun in her hands. "We need to stop them! They're fighting!"

Then before she could rush down the stairs towards the two, Harry laughed as he was slammed onto the floor by Syaoran's kick. She paused, mesmerized. She had never heard Harry laugh before, so genuinely and freely.

"Good one," Harry was saying to Syaoran. "How'd you do that?"

"Harry, Syaoran, Kurogane, Fai..." Mokona said quietly as Syaoran began teaching Harry the correct stance, their eyes alight with adrenaline, "Even you, Sakura...All of you have this sadness inside you. But as you travel together, the sad feeling gets a little smaller. Sakura has this warm feeling that somehow spreads to everyone of them."**

"I do?" Sakura whispered, feeling a sudden sense of helplessness.

"Sakura might not be able to fight, but your smile gives them a reason to keep fighting," Mokona explained cheerfully. "Syaoran smiles more now. Fai and Kurogane isn't as lonely anymore. And Harry is laughing for the first time."

Sakura smiled, her eyes teary. "Thank you, Mokona," she whispered, hugging her closer.

End of Interlude

_**"You can't protect everyone. But when you can't, I'll help you."** _

* * *

*Adapted from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

**Adapted from manga.


End file.
